A Matter of Principles
by OveractiveImagination39
Summary: Orihime Inoue made it a rule to never mix business with pleasure, but when her new employer needs her to work undercover with him on an important case, she finds that keeping the two separate is harder than she imagined. Cover image by bisous-noirs.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters._

**Beta: lilarin**

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

_I began this back in July as a birthday present for my wonderful beta lilarin, but life got in the way, and I had to put it aside. Then I found myself unemployed again, with time on my hands. Frustrated from filing unemployment I went back to this story and finished it._

_Ironically I got called for a job interview that afternoon and landed a job just two days later!_

**_Happy belated birthday lilarin!_**

* * *

**Chapter One**

She sped up her pace as she noticed the doors closing, and cried out "Hold the elevator please."

A hand shot out just as the doors were about to slam shut. They paused, and then slowly retracted, and she exhaled a silent thank you as she pushed her way through the opening, smiling at the only other occupant.

The man, taller than her by almost a foot, and wearing a blue baseball cap turned backwards over his silver blond hair, simply nodded his head, barely acknowledging her presence.

The doors closed and the elevator lurched into motion. She stood a few feet away from him, and began to nervously straighten her blouse and then fiddled with the stray hairs that had fallen from her hairpins.

"You saved me," she said trying to break the uncomfortable silence that always seemed to prevail whenever the doors closed. "I have a job interview, and if I had missed that elevator I would have been late for sure."

"Maybe you should've left earlier," he replied. His face stared at the numbers on the keypad in front of him.

"Oh," she grew flustered by his answer and let out a nervous giggle. "I suppose you're right. I mean no excuses - that's my motto too - but still I appreciate you holding he door. Not many people would do such a thing, but you did and I really appreciate it."

"You talk a lot," he turned to look at her. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were turned down in a scowl.

"I'm sorry. I get like this when I'm nervous. My mouth starts going and then I can't stop…"

"That would explain why people don't hold the elevator for you. They don't want to hear you blabber on about nonsense," He looked back at the numbers once more.

She straightened her back and turned to stare at him, mouth open, ready for a quick retort, when suddenly the elevator made a loud screech and then came to a complete stop.

"Shit!" the man cursed as he pushed the buttons, trying to get the machine moving again.

"Oh no," she glanced down at her watch, "Of all the rotten luck."

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. Looking it over she felt her frustration grow.

"This shouldn't be happening," she spoke more to herself than the other occupant. "_Unexpected surprises will bring you good luck – _this is unexpected, but…"

"Now what are you going on about?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice and replied, "Oh nothing…I mean it's just my horoscope for today. It always gives a fortune and today it said that unexpected surprises will bring me good luck."

"So did you expect this?" he glared at her.

"Well no, not really."

He laughed, but more sarcastically than friendly, and then commented, "Looks like your fortune is full of shit."

"I don't know," she shoved the paper back in her pocket. "Sometimes what looks like a bad situation is really something good in disguise."

"You really don't believe that load of crap do you?"

"What else should I do? I don't know how to fix the elevator…you wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

"The way this thing breaks down, I should," he said as he pressed the emergency call button again.

"So this happens a lot?"

He turned and glared at her, "I just said that didn't I?"

She clenched her hands at her sides and then released them slowly along with a deep breath. Attempting to remain cheerful she said, "What I should have asked was do you work in this building, since you say the elevator breaks down a lot."

He continued to stare at her and she fought the urge to squirm from the discomfort. Finally he spoke, "It's not really any of your business where I work."

"No," she stammered, "I suppose not. I was just trying to make polite conversation. I mean now that we're stuck here, for God only knows how long…"

"Last time was three hours," he cut her off.

"Three hours?" she squeaked.

"Time before that it took the whole weekend before anyone even realized someone was trapped inside."

"But you just rang the emergency button," she tried to keep her smile from slipping.

"Better than hitting my head into the wall," he shot back. "Either way the results would be the same."

"Oh no," she reached down and fished through her purse. Finding her phone she quickly unlocked it and dialed a number. When nothing happened she looked down and cried out in frustration, "There's no service in here. How can there be no service?"

"Something to do with the lining of the elevator," he replied and shrugged.

"But I need to call this person. I need to explain why I'm late."

"Ain't gonna happen," he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"But I really need this job," her voice rose as she felt the hysteria begin to build.

"Yeah you and about twelve million other people in this country," he looked straight ahead.

"You don't have to remind me," she shrieked. "I'm out there every day facing those odds."

"So why not give up?" he turned and looked at her.

"Because I can't," she felt a sob rise in her throat and shut her mouth. Closing her eyes she tried to think pleasant thoughts in an effort to regain her control.

Still she could feel his eyes on her and unable to stand it any longer opened her lids and peered at him.

"What?" she asked.

"Just trying to think of who might be advertising a position," he replied as he took in her appearance. "All I can think of is that private investigator. Heard his last secretary up and quit 'cos he's a real asshole to work for. But then you won't even get in the door in that get up…"

"What's wrong with my clothes?" she asked eying herself, growing increasingly more anxious.

He took in her light-blue, silk blouse and her cream-colored pencil skirt with matching blue belt. Her pumps, a respectable heel, were also the same shade making the ensemble coordinated and very professional in her opinion.

A small smirk graced his lips and he said, "Unbutton the top button."

"What?" she asked as her hand instinctively rose to cover her chest where the blouse lay open,

"You need to show a little skin," he stepped closer. "This outfit is way too uptight. In fact I think my grannie has a top like this."

"You're mean," she stepped back to regain a little distance between them. "And this outfit is very trendy."

"If you're ninety," he laughed. "I mean really," his eyes roved over her figure and rested on her rather large bust, "Why try to hide those. They're actually your biggest asset, literally and figuratively."

Her face grew red and she stepped forward. Without thought she reached out and slapped him hard across the face. He turned and stared at her, a teasing smile still on his lips, while she stood mortified, breathing in ragged gasps.

"I am a smart woman," she yelled when she finally could find her voice, "I graduated third in high school, and there were over 1,000 students in my class. So just because my breasts are bigger than most, does not mean my IQ is smaller."

His hands flew up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, so you're touchy about your huge boobs…" She raised her hand again but he caught it easily with his hand. "No, no, not gonna let you get another slap in. The first was deserved, I admit that…"

"You are crude," she said, and then her face fell and she closed her eyes to stop the tears that threatened to embarrass her further.

"Just stating the obvious," he released her hand. "If you want to get ahead of all those other broads trying to get the position, you should use what you have."

She opened her eyes and glared at him, "I would rather not get the job if I have to rely on such methods to get it."

"Well then you better give one hell of an interview because all the others will be doing whatever it takes, if you know what I mean."

She held his gaze a moment more and then her bravado fell. Stepping back she leaned against the wall of the elevator and buried her face in her hands. She breathed deeply as she massaged her temples. He was irritating, but he was right, and she hated that fact.

"I am a damn good secretary," she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Doesn't matter," he replied.

She looked back up at him.

"Well that's a load of dog doo."

"What?" he laughed. "Can't you even swear properly?"

She dropped her hands to her side. "I don't have to be as crass as you to make my point."

He smiled, "A lady with principles." He lifted his baseball cap, scratching his head he continued, "Well you don't see that every day." She narrowed her eyes and he smiled wider. "Principles won't fill your stomach."

"I know that," she replied.

"And they won't pay your bills," he pressed.

"Yes but they help me get a good night's rest at the end of a long day."

This made him laugh once more and he said, "Too bad. You would have made for some entertainment, at least the next time this thing gets stuck."

"I haven't lost the job yet," she stuck out her chin stubbornly.

"Really?" he asked. "Tell you what. I'll be your employer. Give me the interview and I'll tell you whether or not you'll get the job."

She eyed him suspiciously.

"Come on. We're stuck here anyways, might as well practice."

She thought it over and then decided it wasn't such a bad idea. "Okay, so Mr. … I don't know your name…"

"Does it matter?"

"Well I like to introduce myself…"

"Jaegerjaquez," he said.

"Is that French?" she asked momentarily distracted.

"Why does it matter?" his voice rose.

"No reason I guess," she refused to back down though and instead held out her hand, "Nice to meet you Mr. Jaegerjaquez. My name is Orihime Inoue and I'd like to tell you why I would be a valuable asset to your company."

He shook her hand and she then released him and reached down and took her resume from the envelope in her bag. Handing it to him she continued nonplussed, "As you can see I am highly skilled in office management and have worked for several companies…"

"So then why are you applying for a position in this shithole of a company?" he asked.

She blinked her eyes several times and sputtered, "What?"

"If you're so good why do you need this job?" he asked more forcibly.

"Well, it's just that…I mean the economy is such that…well I have always been a fan of mystery novels and private-eye movies…"

"Holy fuck!" he stood tall. "Is that really what you would say?"

"Well you just surprised me, and I don't do good with surprises like that…"

"You better learn," he remarked. "You would be amazed at how often the cops get called out because some pissed off ex-husband or other scumbag comes looking for revenge. That guy is a magnet for surprises."

"Oh," she bit her lip and looked down as she tried to collect her thoughts again. "Well surprises like that I can handle. I mean I'm used to dealing with bullies and drunks…"

"What are you some kind of sadist?"

"No," she waved her hands frantically on front of her face. "I just…I mean I…well my…oh never mind. Too personal, but believe me I can handle that stuff."

He sighed and then looked over her resume. "Pretty impressive," he said absently and then looking back at her said, "So why'd you get canned from your last job?"

"Oh, well that's a long story…"

"I got all the time in the world."

She chuckled nervously, "I guess you do. Well you see it was those funny principles of mine…"

"Your principles got you fired?"

"Sort of," she said. "Well truthfully yeah, they were the reason. But that's a good thing, don't you think? I mean a girl with principles is a real asset to a company because she's honest and trustworthy and reliable…"

"What'd your boss ask you to blow 'm?" he asked bluntly.

And then to her horror the tears that she had been trying to hold at bay began to fall.

"Ah shit," he exclaimed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanky.

She took it and dabbed her eyes as she tried to stop the tears. In a shaking voice she explained, "I was good at my job, and we had a very professional relationship. But then his wife had a baby and she was tired and he had needs…or so he would tell me. And he didn't see why I couldn't help him out. He even promised me a good word with the big boss. But I'm not like that…I mean he was married…had a baby…and his wife…I knew her from the Christmas party…"

"So he fired you?"

She nodded her head.

"He said if I kept quiet he would make sure there were no problems getting unemployment. But I wouldn't have said anything. I couldn't do that to his wife…"

"Yeah but now he's fucking some other chick, with no principles and your job."

She wiped the last of the tears away and said firmly, "It doesn't matter. I am not going to compromise who I am for some loser like that."

He surprised her with a genuine smile this time and handing back the resume said, "The last gal that worked for him ended up sleeping with this detective that used to provide him information from time to time."

"Were they dating?" she asked intrigued. "I mean the private eye and the secretary."

"He was fucking her, but that's not quite the same," he winked. "Anyways, she stole a bunch of files and some money. It was the talk of the building for quite some time, but then a guy like that, sleeping with his secretary, kind of deserved it don't ya think?"

She shook her head.

"Yet you're still willing to work for him, knowing he's a complete letch?"

"Well I prefer to make my own decisions. After all, my principles didn't spare my reputation. The girls in the office still spread malicious gossip about me. None of which was true."

"Yeah but all these stories are fact," he peered at her with intensity in his gaze.

"Well I guess I'll just have to find out for myself…"

Suddenly the elevator lurched back into motion and she stumbled forward into his grasp. Once more her cheeks heated and she untangled herself with a muffled apology. When the doors opened they both stepped out with a sigh of relief.

Holding out her hand she said, "Thanks for the practice."

He took her hand in his and then remarked, "The bathroom is right over there. I suggest you freshen up. All that crying has made you look like a raccoon."

Her hands went to her cheeks and she gasped, "Oh gosh. Oh thanks. That would have been embarrassing."

"No problem," he replied. And then he headed off in the other direction.

She entered the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face and then took a few moments to touch up her makeup and reapply her lipstick. Then once last look in the mirror, and an affirmation spoken softly to encourage herself, she headed back out and down the hall.

Stopping at the door she looked up.

_Pantera Investigations. _

This was it. She breathed deeply and reaching into her pocket she pulled out her horoscope and read it once more.

_Unexpected surprises will bring you good luck._

She needed good luck. Just this once she prayed it would go her way. Putting the scrap back into her pocket she gripped the doorknob and opened it gently.

The office was a cluttered mess. Papers were stacked in piles, and a fine layer of dust covered everything. Her eyes went to the desk where her potential employer now sat, his chair leaning back and his boots resting on the marred wooden surface. He smirked from beneath the brim of a blue baseball cap, now turned around.

"I take my coffee with extra cream and extra sugar," he said as she stood stunned, mouth opening and closing. "Unless of course I'm hung-over; then it's black and extra strong. I'll give you one week to figure the difference and then if you fuck up you're fired."

She still stood rooted in place.

"What?" he asked as he placed the chair firmly on the floor and rested his elbows on the desk in front of him. "I thought you were real smart, but you're standing there like a fucking moron with your mouth gaping."

"You are _Pantera Investigations_?"

He smiled wider, "In the flesh."

"And the interview?"

"Yeah, well I do prefer a little boobie to distract me while I listen to all that boring crap about qualifications and such, but I think I'll try principles for a change."

She let out a deep breath and said, "I just…are you serious…I mean I slapped you…"

"Well I'll try not to hold that against you," he rubbed his still red cheek. "So when can you start?"

"Right now," she hated to sound so eager, but hell he already knew how desperate she was.

"Good," he rose and came around from behind the desk. "Coffee pot is over there. I'm gonna check the messages and then get started. Damn elevator set me back some, but at least I don't have to do that interview anymore."

"Unexpected surprises will bring you good luck," she smiled as she placed her bag on the desk and went for the coffee pot.

"Yeah and none of that shit," he said as he headed into his office. "Principles are hard enough. Cut the cheerful crap. At least until I've had my second cup of coffee."

With that he closed the door and left her standing with an empty pot in her hand. It wasn't quite what she had expected, but it was a start.


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters._

**Beta: lilarin**

* * *

_**Author's Notes:  
** _

_I decided to add to this one-shot. This was originally written as a birthday gift for my beta lilarin, but I finished the first chapter about three months late. Sat down and started again on my birthday, and now about a month later I am done. It is nine chapters in total and runs at a rather quick pace. Hope you enjoy as this is a deviation from my usual UlquiHime writings._

* * *

**Chapter Two**

She liked to believe herself a miracle worker, but it took her the better part of the week to get his office in order. The first day she had spent trying to make sense of his files, which was a disorganized mess of sticky notes and messages written on used napkins. The second day she donned an apron and gloves and broke out her cleaning supplies from home. By the time the morning had passed she had managed to penetrate the filth that had accumulated since his last secretary had left, or maybe even before that. It was hard to tell because he never talked about her, and she never asked. Of course when he had emerged from his private office to head to lunch he made the remark that he would have preferred she had worn just the apron to work. She learned quickly that it was best to ignore his remarks, but still it was impossible to keep her cheeks from burning as he grinned slyly and shut the door behind him.

The rest of the week was spent trying to convert his mess of notes to computer files for his various clients, not that she had seen a single person seek his services. He claimed that it was down time between cases, but that he had a few in the works that he was gathering information on. Gathering information, she learned, usually meant sitting in the coffee shop across the street smoking cigarettes or drinking really bad coffee.

It was after almost three weeks in his employ that a new client actually entered the office. The man was tall, but not quite as tall as Grimmjow. His jet-black hair fell about shoulder length and was slicked back in a very neat and orderly fashion. He stunk of money, and she wondered why he would seek out the service of _Pantera Investigations_. She looked up as he closed the door and smiled pleasantly.

"Good morning," she gave him her full attention, "Can I help you?"

"I have a 10:00 appointment with Mr. Jaegerjaquez," he replied coolly. His gray eyes gave away no emotion, but the tone of his voice indicated that he was a man that did not like to be kept waiting.

Of course her boss had mentioned nothing of this appointment and she now felt like an idiot sitting there smiling and at a loss as what to do. Grimmjow had yet to arrive; a sign that told her today would be strong, black coffee.

_Damn_, she thought, why did he have to be hung-over on the one day that he finally had a potential client?

"Mr. Jaegerjaquez is running behind," her smile faltered as the man frowned, "But if you have a seat I will see how long…"

The door suddenly swung open and her boss sauntered in. Taking in her frantic gaze, he then turned and looked at the rather aristocratic man at her desk.

"I heard you were punctual," he grinned as he closed the door and nodded his head towards the door to his office, "How about we go and discuss why you are seeking my services." He led the man through the door and turned back to look her way once more, "Knock before you bring my coffee."

She nodded and rose to her feet, getting his empty mug and starting the pot, which she had prepped over an hour ago. He liked it strong and black, but he had told her later on her first day that if he wanted stale he could go across the street. So she always waited until he arrived before she brewed the hot, acrid liquid.

* * *

"So, I have to admit that I was a little surprised that Byakuya Kuchiki would come to me for help. Don't you have investigators of your own that could handle your needs?" Grimmjow leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk.

The man looked at him with disdain. "I prefer this matter to stay out of the public eye. My own people, though discreet, do not need to know every facet of my personal life."

He grinned as he picked up a pen and reached for the notebook that Orihime had given him the other day. She mentioned that it was easier if he kept his information in one place, and not on napkins and such. He had given her some smartass remark, but he knew she was right.

"So you got some chick on the side that you don't want your wife to find out about?" he clicked the pen several times, enjoying the man's growing annoyance with his antics.

Kuchiki gave nothing away. His voice remained cool and even, and his eyes never wavered from Grimmjow's. "I was warned that you were a rather crude individual," his tone now condescending, "But for this job I need someone of your caliber; someone who isn't averse to stepping outside the law to get what he is searching for." He bristled at Kuchiki's words, yet continued as he was, clicking the pen, his eyes on his potential client.

"Actually it is my wife's sister that is my concern," Kuchiki continued. "It would seem that the girl has taken up with some local college boy."

"Not good enough for your standards," Grimmjow taunted.

"I think that goes with out saying," Kuchiki replied nonplussed. "My family is very wealthy as you are well aware. Any possible suitor my sister-in-law comes across could desire more than her company. I need to make sure that she is protected from such money hungry men."

"So you want me to track this guy? See if he's legit?" he asked.

"You could say that," Kuchiki replied, "But I also need to know that there is nothing in this guy's past that could potentially mar my family's name and harm our reputation. And I believe you understand that I do not wish for her to know any of this," Kuchiki sat back again. "That is more so the reason I am seeking your assistance. Rukia knows all my men. She would spot anyone that I placed on this case, and I do not wish for her to find out."

"And your wife?"

The cool façade faltered, "She has been ill. This situation would only upset her, and I do not wish to burden her during her recovery."

_Shit_, he was a sucker for sob stories at times.

"So, I tail your sister-in-law, check out the guy she's seeing, and see if he's legit," he began to write in his notepad.

"That would be correct," Kuchiki replied.

"Anything you're looking for in particular?"

"Just report what you find," Kuchiki said; his voice growing cold once more. "I'll decide from there what is of importance."

They wrapped up the meeting and Kuchiki rose to leave.

"So, just out of curiosity," Grimmjow stood as well, "How'd you hear about me?"

"Yoruichi Shihoin is a family acquaintance," he stared once more his way. "She mentioned that you were a rather crass, hotheaded individual who believed rules were made simply to be broken."

This brought a deep laugh from him, "Shit, hope she didn't post that on Angie's List. A glowing recommendation like that can't be good for business," he closed the notebook and laid the pen on top. "Yet you sought my help anyways."

A small smile played at the corners of Kuchiki's mouth. "Yoruichi and I grew up together. She made my life a living hell, so whenever I get the chance I like to give it back to her." He placed his coat over his arm and continued, "Hiring her lover's ex-boyfriend should get under her skin quite nicely, wouldn't you say?"

Grimmjow coughed loudly as his face heated up. "I see you like to hit below the belt."

Kuchiki held his stare, "I also know all about your fall from grace with the city police force." Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, but the man kept speaking regardless, "In my world I have no choice but to play by the rules. This time, though, I need someone who has no regard for the system; a man who will do what is necessary to get the job done." Grimmjow nodded. "Do this job well, and I may find you useful in other investigations that I wish to keep private."

He was not the type of man that liked bones thrown his way, but Kuchiki came from wealth, and money like that would be nice to tap into every so often.

"Sounds like a match made in heaven," he smirked.

Kuchiki stared a moment more and opened the door only to find Orihime standing there with a tray in hand, coffee and cookies for two placed neatly atop. She flushed as she lowered her hand that was poised to knock.

"Sorry," she squeaked, "I didn't start the coffee until you arrived and now I guess I am too late."

Kuchiki glanced briefly at her and walked through the door as soon as she stepped aside. She grew even more flustered and when the man left turned back to Grimmjow.

"I'm so sorry."

"Shit that guy is an uptight asshole," he said as he grabbed the coffee from the tray. Looking at the cookies he asked, "Did you make these?"

"You said I wasn't allowed to serve any food I made myself," she began to head back to the table where the coffee pot sat.

"Damn straight," he said as he followed her and grabbed the plate. "Remember to use your looks and not your cooking when you go to snag some poor unsuspecting soul for a husband. Maybe even get him in the sack first…"

She pulled back the plate, causing his coffee to slosh in the cup and almost spill all over his white shirt.

"You can't talk to me like that," she huffed as she put the plate on the counter and got out a container to put them away.

"Just trying to help."

"I believe you are the last person I would seek advice for my love life."

"Hey just because my last girl left me for another woman…"

She fumbled with the container, almost dropping it before righting it once more.

"Oh my," she looked down at the cookies and started to place them in the plastic box. "I didn't know."

"You weren't listening by the door?"

She looked up at him, eyes blazing, "I would never do such a thing!"

"Okay so now you know the sordid details of my last fling with a secretary," he reached over and grabbed the container from her and pulled out a handful of cookies. "You do like guys don't you?"

"You can't ask people that," she grew red.

"Just saying you don't look the type that would get into chicks."

"My personal life is not any of your business," she said as she poured the other coffee cup down the sink that was next to the pot. "And just for the record, I like guys. In fact I have a friend now that may turn out to be more than a friend…"

"Not gonna happen," he took a bite of the cookie.

"What?"

"How long you known this guy?"

"Since high school," she replied as her voice rose.

"Yeah, not gonna happen," he finished the cookie. "You've known him too long. If he hasn't tried to get in your pants yet, he never will."

"You know I could report you to the ACLU for sexual harassment," she huffed.

"For giving you such useful advice?" he teased.

"Sexual harassment," she put the lid on the cookies and placed them in the cabinet. Then she straightened and stared at him before breaking out into laughter. "Did she really leave you for another woman?"

"Okay, that is not to leave this office," he felt his face heat up. "Of course after me no other man could do…"

"You just keep telling yourself that," she giggled as she made her way back to her desk.

"Watch yourself," he growled, "You're still on probation."

"Black coffee," she replied.

"What the fuck?"

"Black coffee today," she smiled as she straightened some papers on her desk. "You said I had to know the difference between cream and sugar, and black coffee days."

"So?"

"Hung-over?" she smiled sweetly.

"There is more to the job than deciphering my drinking habits," he stalked towards his door.

"And I believe I do those other things very well," her voice held confidence.

He smiled at that. It was rare that she spoke in such a way, but he found it an incredible turn on when she did. Shit, no more secretaries. Hadn't he learned his lesson with Sui-Feng?

Changing the subject he said, "Do you have clothes that scream normal college kid?"

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"You know sexy, revealing clothes."

"I don't see how this relates to this conversation."

"I'm investigating some college guy, and I may need you," he stated. "But if you can't play the part then forget it."

She jumped to her feet, hand bracing the desktop. The motion caused her breasts to squeeze together, the button on her uptight blouse straining. Holy fuck, she was killing him.

"I can do it," she said with enthusiasm.

"We'll see," he swallowed hard. "Go home and change and I'll meet you in the coffee shop in two hours."

"Two hours?" she asked.

"Yeah put on some slutty makeup too…"

He ducked as a pen flew at his head.

"Hey, you could do some serious harm…"

"That was the intention."

"Okay, so not slutty, but at least wear gloss. Guys dig that shit."

She grew even more flustered as she gathered her belongings. At the door she turned and said, "I like to keep my work and private life separate. How I dress here is strictly professional…"

"Well your personal better be more normal, or I will leave you behind."

She stuck out her tongue at him and opened the door. "Two hours," she smiled sweetly, but the slamming of the door gave away her true feelings.

He laughed as he made his way to the coffee pot for another cup. She was too easy to get riled up, yet he really did need her to play the part of the college co-ed if he was gonna sneak up on this local that had gotten Kuchiki's uptight panties all in a bunch.

* * *

When she walked into the coffee shop two hours later he almost spit his coffee all over the table. She wasn't kidding about personal and professional dress. The outfit she now wore, a sleeveless blue floral-print cotton top that crisscrossed at her chest and fell fluidly down past her waist in a baby doll style, only to drape over the loose white denim skirt that sat a few inches above her knees, was incredibly cute. The blue denim vest that hung open, drew his gaze to her gorgeous breasts, but it was the tan boots that reached only to her mid calf, that made his blood pound furiously in his head.

She slid into the booth, tossed back her now loose hair, and smiled sweetly. "College kid?" she teased.

"Just how old are you?" he asked.

"Didn't you read my resume?" she asked back.

"Nope."

"My W-4?"

"My secretary handled that."

"Twenty-two," she sighed, "Twenty-three in September."

"I thought you graduated at the top of your class in high school. Why aren't you in college?"

"It was third," she began to fiddle with the necklace that fell along the edge of the top, drawing his eyes to the gentle swell of her breasts. "Besides college is expensive and so is living. I work to survive and take night classes."

"Oh," he felt like an idiot for not knowing that. "Well, then I suppose you'll fit right in."

"Where're we going?" she asked.

"This kid I'm investigating, he works at the bookstore at the university," he replied as he stood.

Her eyes opened wide.

"What?" he asked.

"I know someone that works there."

"Well if he's into chicks with huge trust funds then he could be my guy," he replied casually.

"Huge trust funds?" she asked and she stood as well. "Is that some kind of euphemism for big boobs?"

He laughed and said, "I see I'm wearing off on you," she frowned slightly. "And no, the guy I'm after is a money grubbing bastard."

"Oh my," she said. "Then that would rule out my friend. He's so sweet, and cares about all his friends, and tries to keep us all safe and …"

"I'm looking for a scumbag, not Mother Teresa," he placed his hand in the small of her back and prodded her along towards the door. "I'll explain the plan on the way there."


	3. Chapter 3

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.  
_

**Beta: lilarin**

* * *

**Author's Notes:  
**

Sorry about the mix up with the story status. I forgot to change complete to in progress - so there are definitely more chapters to come! Thanks to all who reviewed. I was so excited to the see the new names as well as the familiar. So here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

(While listening to _Say You Like Me_ by We the Kings)

They entered the bookstore together. He looked for the boy that Kuchiki had hired him to investigate, while she searched for Ichigo. Spotting him organizing some shirts with the school logo on them she turned to Grimmjow.

"That's my friend, Ichigo."

He stared hard at the strawberry blonde and finally spoke, "Why don't you go and say hello. It would look odd if you just ignored him."

"Really?" she glanced back towards Ichigo, her heart beginning to beat faster in her chest. "And what about the guy you're looking for?"

"He can wait," Grimmjow stared at her friend as well. "I'll just hang back here for now. And Orihime…"

"Yes?"

"Don't mention that I'm your boss, okay."

"Sure," she gave him a mock salute, "Going undercover now."

Smiling she bounded off towards Ichigo. Yet as she grew closer she began to feel the familiar nervousness that she always felt when she got around him. By the time she reached him she was completely tongue tied.

Waving shyly she said, "Hi, Ichigo."

He looked up and smiled. "Orihime, what are you doing here? Didn't you get a new job?" And then lowering his voice he grew concerned, "You didn't get fired already did you?"

She felt her face heat up and stammered, "Of course not, but we finished up early and my boss let me take some personal time so I could…ah...so I could study…and so I came here to use the library. Yeah that's it!"

She shot her finger up in the air to emphasize her point and grinned anxiously.

"So then why are you here in the bookstore?"

"Well, I thought you might be here, and I hadn't seen you in a while, and I thought it would be rude not to say hi, and so here I am, totally not working…just being a normal college kid…"

He stood to his full height and stared curiously at her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah just fine," she played with the edge of her denim vest. "Why do you ask?"

"You're just acting weirder than usual," he was about to go back to his work of folding the shirts when Grimmjow suddenly appeared.

She felt his arm wrap around her waist as he pulled her up against her hip, before she realized he was there.

"So did this guy help you find what you needed?" he asked as he shot Ichigo an assessing stare.

"Huh?" she replied totally confused.

"Come on babe," he leaned in closer. "I thought you said you needed some special calculator for your accounting class."

"Who are you?" Ichigo stood again and glared at Grimmjow.

"Ah Ichigo," she tried to make sense of the entire situation. "This is my…"

"Boyfriend," Grimmjow said as his hand gripped her waist tighter. "And what's it to you?"

She was speechless as Ichigo grew irritated. "You never said you were seeing anybody," he looked at Orihime.

"I wasn't…"

"We aren't official yet," Grimmjow taunted. "Thought my ex would get real pissed if she knew I was already seeing someone else."

"Your ex?" she and Ichigo both said at the same exact moment.

Grimmjow laughed. "Orihime do you know this guy? Is he in one of your classes?"

"He's a friend…"

"We went to high school together," Ichigo dropped the shirt he was holding and gave Grimmjow his full attention. "That makes us a lot more than friends."

"What'd you sleep with her?" Grimmjow gave her bottom an affectionate squeeze.

Ichigo turned almost as red as his hair. "Not that kind of a friend…"

"Too bad for you," Grimmjow stepped forward, "She's a wild one in the sack."

She broke from his grasp and gave him a hard shove with both hands.

"What do you think you're doing," she glared at him. "This goes way beyond anything you have done in the past…"

"Oh come on Orihime, Ichigo knows I'm just kidding," Grimmjow never took his eyes of her friend. "You're definitely not the type that would just hop into bed with every guy she dates."

"I have never…" she stopped herself as she realized she was about to blurt out way more personal information than she was comfortable with.

"So are you two dating or not?" Ichigo asked.

Grimmjow gave her a look, and suddenly her heart skipped a beat.

_No. _

_There was no way that this was part of their investigation. _

_That Ichigo was the money grubbing bastard that they were trying to expose._

"Orihime?" Ichigo asked.

She turned to him and smiled weakly, her stomach hurting painfully. "I…it's kind of a long story…I mean," letting out a deep sigh, she lied, "Yes, we're dating."

"You got a problem with that?" Grimmjow stepped back to her side and grabbed her hand tightly in his.

"No, I mean not with her dating anyone, but you," he picked up the shirt he discarded earlier. "You, I may have a problem with."

This brought a laugh from Grimmjow. "I guess, I'm a little possessive," he said. "And watching Orihime flirting with another guy…"

"Flirting?" she croaked now beyond humiliated.

"You read the whole thing wrong, "Ichigo said. "Orihime and I are just friends - nothing more."

She forced herself to swallow as her stomach flipped with nausea. This was like a nightmare.

"What, is she not good enough for you?" Grimmjow asked. "I mean she's a damn good looking woman."

Ichigo looked at her as if for the first time. As if he had never looked at her as a woman before. And in that moment she realized that he had never thought of her as anything but a friend, and never would. She fought the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks.

"Orihime is a very beautiful girl, but I…well I'm already…"

"You've got a girl," Grimmjow stared intently.

"Look I don't even know you," Ichigo grew irritated once more. "And even if you are with Orihime, I don't feel comfortable talking about my private life with you."

"Nice friend you've got here Orihime," Grimmjow remarked.

"Could we just go?" she whispered.

Both men turned to her.

"Orihime are you okay?" Ichigo asked concerned.

"I'm fine," she said softly. "I apologize for bothering you at work…"

"You're not bothering me," Ichigo placed his hand on her shoulder. "We're friends, remember."

"Yeah friends," she mumbled and then plastering a fake smile on her face gripped Grimmjow's hand painfully tight. "Well anyways, we should leave you to finish your work. Talk again soon."

"Okay," Ichigo replied.

She had walked a few feet when he called out, "Hey Orihime."

She turned around.

"A few of us are getting together for Chad's birthday next Friday night. Care to join us?"

She hesitated.

"You can bring…ah what's your name again?"

"Grimmjow," her boss replied.

"Yeah, okay," Ichigo said. "So bring Grimmjow and meet us at the usual spot."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Ichigo smiled and went back to work while she and Grimmjow walked out of the building. She held it together until they got to the parking lot before she unloaded on him.

* * *

"You are a complete and utter jerk!" Orihime yelled as she turned to face him once they made it to his car. "How could you do such a thing? I mean it was one thing to say all those things, but you used me."

"I didn't know," Grimmjow tried to defend himself. "Honestly I didn't know until you said his name…"

"So you could have stopped me then," she couldn't hide the anger in her voice.

"I didn't think I would say anything," he tried to be rational, but she was quickly losing it. "But you were…well as I watched you…I mean it was really annoying…"

"Annoying?"

He cringed. "That came out wrong," he stepped towards her and she backed up just as fast.

The truth was that watching her fawning over the guy, when it was obvious to anyone else that the dude was not interested, was more than annoying, it was painful. He did it to save her from herself, but then his mouth got away from him and he embarrassed her.

"Look I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," she brushed off his attempt to console her. "You used me to further your investigation."

"I didn't know…"

"You knew when I went to talk to Ichigo," her voice rose, "And by the way, he would never date a girl for her money. He's way too nice a guy. So you can tell Mr. Kuchiki that the investigation is over."

"It doesn't work like that," he tried to explain.

"Yes, it does," and suddenly tears began to gather in her eyes and he felt like a complete ass.

"Look, it's obvious that you have feelings for this guy," he said.

"And it was also obvious that my feelings were very one-sided," she sniffed, her voice lowering as she tried to contain her emotions.

"His loss," he replied.

"Just shut up okay," she turned away and now he could hear the sobs in her words. "I thought this would be fun, playing assistant to a private eye, but I was an idiot."

"This is not a pleasant job," he tried. "I told you that in the elevator when we first met."

"No, if I remember right you said you were an asshole," she turned and faced him again, and even with tears streaking her cheeks, her eyes blazed with fury, "Which you proved quite satisfactorily today."

"Come on, Orihime. Isn't it better to know the guy isn't interested?"

"No!" she stepped forward and placing both hands on his chest pushed him hard, "It's not better. Maybe I liked living with the hope that one day he would like me as more than a friend."

"You can't mean that," Grimmjow couldn't understand the female mind. God knows he had tried, but women were simply fucked in the head when it came to love and sex and relationships.

"What's the alternative?"

"Finding a guy that likes you," he stated. "You're a hot chick when you dress the part…"

Her hand connected hard with his cheek. He should have seen it coming, but maybe he let her get it in because he was feeling a slight twinge of guilt over her distraught state.

"I quit," she yelled again. "You can find yourself someone who has no problem with being used to further your goals."

"Don't be so dramatic," he said. "We were after the same guy. It wasn't like I intended it to happen like that."

"So what did you intend?" She asked. "You had me dress up all "hot" and then bring me with you. I'd say you intended to use me one way on another."

He couldn't answer, because she was right. He did plan to use her. And when he found out that she actually knew the target, he simply changed his original plan.

"Look," she said as she rooted around in her bag. Pulling out her cell phone she continued, "My friend Tatsuki has a dorm on campus. I'll just go there and she can give me a ride home."

"Cut the crap," he grabbed the phone before she could dial. "Look I'm sorry okay. I did intend to use you, but it was more like as a partner, like we were playing a part, nothing more."

"You could have let me in on your plans," she tried to swipe the phone in his hands.

"You would never have gone along with them if you had known."

"Maybe not, but then maybe I would have. Of course you'll never know that because you didn't trust me enough to ask," she gave up trying to get her phone.

"Orihime," he sighed as he handed it back to her. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Well, you did."

"Yes I did, but I acted on instinct when I saw you with Kurosaki. I guess I figured if I made him jealous it would get us both what we wanted, but I was wrong."

"Why would he be jealous?" she asked.

"Oh come on, don't act so coy," he narrowed his eyes. "I see the ladies look and I know that a guy like that would feel competitive if a guy like me was interested in you."

"Oh my God," she stopped crying and then suddenly began to laugh. Not a happy laugh. No, more like she was laughing at him. "Do you really think like that?"

"It's the truth."

"Wow," she stopped laughing and stared hard, "You are possibly the most arrogant man I have ever met."

"Just being honest."

"Yeah well if you're such a stud, why'd your last girl leave you for another woman?"

He grew very still, and she placed her hand over her mouth, ashamed that she had spoken the words.

"So you've got a limit to the sweet girl routine huh?" he asked as he reached into his pockets for his keys.

"It's not a routine," she lowered her hand and whispered.

"Could have fooled me," he pressed the key ring to release the lock on the car door.

"You just made me mad," she said. "And you hurt my feelings. And then you say something so conceited, as if a girl like me would be honored to have a guy like you pay attention to her. And yet all the while you have your own insecurities just like the rest of us…"

He stepped closer to her. "I am not insecure."

"Yes, you are." She replied.

"I can have any woman I want."

"So you say."

"I can."

"I don't really care," she held his stare refusing to be intimidated.

Shit, her sudden boldness just made him desire her all the more. Impulsively he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, "So you really quit?"

She nodded, "Yes, I quit."

"So you are no longer my secretary."

"That's what I said."

"Good, 'cos I don't want you screaming sexual harassment again."

Her eyes flew open wide as he drew his face closer to hers. Before she could push him away, he pressed his lips to hers and coaxed her mouth open just enough to run his tongue along her lips. Her body, resistant at first, mellowed just a bit and she sighed. That was enough for him, and he pressed further, now tasting her mouth as his hands held her firmly in place. Her hands lowered and rested on his lower back.

Damn she tasted almost intoxicating. Never in his life had he met someone like her. No, the _sweet routine_ was not an act in the least. She was just as pure and innocent as she claimed. He remembered her earlier comment. She was a virgin, and just how much of a virgin he dared not ask. If she harbored a crush on Kurosaki since high school, then she may never have even kissed a guy before.

He pulled back, "Shit!"

She opened her eyes and looked through heavy lids at him with a question in her gaze.

"Have you ever kissed a guy before?" Grimmjow asked afraid of her answer.

The crimson stain on her cheeks only served to confirm his fears.

"Okay look, I'm officially hiring you back as of right now."

"I don't understand," she said as she began to come to her senses.

"Well, when you are just like any other woman, all I can think about is sex," she dropped her hands and stepped back, "But when you work for me, well then you're my secretary, and therefore off limits, because I am never getting sexual with my secretary again."

"I still don't understand."

"Of course you don't," he ran his fingers through his hair. "That's exactly why I'm hiring you back. And I'm giving you a raise - since you'll be assisting in this investigation to clear your friend's name."

A genuine smile lit her face.

"You'd do that for Ichigo?"

"No," he replied, "but if it's important to you, and well, I mean you seem to be a good judge of character, and that has to count for something in the guy's favor."

She leapt forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. Her breasts pushed against his chest and he groaned silently. Secretary or not, he wanted to throw her down on the ground right there in the parking lot and deflower her in a very public way.

"Okay, look Orihime," he pushed her back gently. "We should probably set some ground rules."

"Yes?"

"For the investigation," he looked down and gathered his thoughts. When he was calm again he looked into her eyes and said, "Work is work, and during the investigation, when we are acting our parts, you know as a couple, then we will need to have a certain level of believability. But at the office, well, then it's different…"

"You're my boss," she narrowed her eyes. "I wouldn't…well you know…I mean principles and all…"

"Yeah, principles," he shook his head. "So can I at least give you a ride back to the office?"

She nodded and climbed into the car. The whole way back he was distracted by her. Just the ways she sat, her gaze focused out the window, her hands clasped in her lap, and her scent – that crisp citrus scent he never noticed before until this afternoon. He was crazy. Taking her back was foolish. But then hiring her in the first place had been a gamble.

Still as his secretary she was off limits. That would work, wouldn't it? Yeah sure, as her boss he would be able to forget the kiss and treat her as any other woman.


	4. Chapter 4

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.  
_

**Beta: lilarin**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I am so excited about the response I have gotten to this story. It has been fun to write and a challenge from my beta, lilarin. As I am usually long-winded she suggested trying something with a faster pace and to the point. This story is a deviation from my usual style and pairing. Now I think I am hooked on the whole Grimmhime idea.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

(While listening to _Teenage Dream_ by Katy Perry)

The week before Chad's birthday was awkward to say the least. Grimmjow acted the same as he always did, crude and crass to a fault, but Orihime found herself distracted and anxious. She was still smarting from Ichigo's unintentional shattering of her childish dreams of love, but more so she was confused by Grimmjow's passionate kiss afterwards and his subsequent theory that as long as she worked for him he would be able to ignore it ever happened.

Well she for one could not ignore it, try as she may. She had never been kissed before, and his rather bold initiation into the world of sexual intimacy left her oddly desiring more. Even now, as she painted her lips with a warm pink gloss that tasted of strawberries, she felt her face heat up at the mere thought of kissing him again. And that was a real possibility tonight. They were after all playing a part. But unlike him, she was not able to dismiss this act so easily.

That worried her. Grimmjow was a lady's man, admittedly so, and she did not feel comfortable being with a man that had had so many other conquests. Yet they weren't together, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time that week. They were merely acting.

She smacked her lips together and twirled once in front of the full length mirror to take in her appearance. Her hair was half up, with strands falling freely down her back from her loose ponytail. Her dress, a beige crochet linen dress that clung tightly to her curves and came to just below her mid-thighs, was chosen deliberately with Ichigo in mind. He may not have noticed that she was a woman before, but he damn sure was going to be reminded of it tonight.

It wasn't that she was angry at him for not feeling for her the same way that she felt about him, but she did like the idea of making him squirm just a bit when he saw her. After all Grimmjow had said she should use her body more to get what she wanted, and tonight she wanted her former crush to wonder if he should have given her at least a try.

The doorbell rang, rousing her from her thoughts, and she made her way over, picking up the gift she had bought for Chad, a colorful new strap for his guitar. She opened the door and tried to remain cool. Yet it was difficult. Grimmjow was a good looking man, she would be lying to deny it, but there were times when he took her breath away. Tonight was one such time.

The outfit looked as if he just picked it off the floor as an afterthought, but she knew it had been carefully planned out. That was the way he was. Everything had a purpose - from the black, long-sleeved Henley shirt that hung just at his waist, to the weather worn jeans and black cowboy boots that peeked out from the hem of his pants.

"Planning to make Kurosaki uncomfortable tonight I see," he grinned as he took in her dress.

"I'm a woman," she teased. "It's only natural to want him to regret his decision."

"You are slowly making your way to the dark side my young apprentice," his voice sinister, and she laughed loudly, feeling strangely more alive than she had in quite a long time.

Linking her arm in his, she said, "Shall we go?"

"We could always ditch the party and go dancing instead," he replied.

"No," she grew alarmed. "I don't want to miss Chad's birthday."

"Just kidding," he said as he took her key and locked her apartment door. "This is business too you know."

"Yeah," she couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

"You worried about playing the part of my girl?" he asked as they made their way outside to the car.

"No," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's business, and I won't forget that, okay?"

"Business, yes, of course," he sounded strange, but she decided to ignore that fact. Tonight was still her friend's party, and even though she was technically working, she still planned to enjoy herself.

* * *

"So how exactly did you two meet?" her geeky friend with the glasses asked as he gave Grimmjow a rather scrutinizing look.

"She kept putting dollar bills into my G-string, so I finally asked her out…"

"Grimmjow!" Orihime flushed a furious shade of red. Her friend on the other hand went white as a ghost. "He's lying, Uryuu."

"I know that, Orihime," the man replied quickly.

"Actually," she began telling the story they had rehearsed earlier that day, "He was a client at the agency I work at."

"A client?" he sounded skeptical.

"Yeah, I thought my ex was cheating on me," Grimmjow enjoyed watching the kid wriggle uncomfortably; "Of course I was right. So at least I don't have to pay the bitch any alimony."

"Grimmjow," she squeezed his arm tightly. It wasn't what they had agreed on, but he couldn't help himself. Her friends annoyed him.

"So you're still married?" Uryuu paled even more.

"Not for long," he winked.

"And do you work?" her friend, Chad, finally spoke from beside the geek.

"I bartend," he replied.

"Interesting," Uryuu said and then seeing someone he wished to talk to excused himself, but as he passed Orihime he leaned in and whispered something. She nodded and her face fell slightly.

"I'm okay Uryuu," she smiled.

Chad excused himself as well, as his friend, some weird fucker with a 69 tattooed on his face, joined the party.

"What was that about?" he asked her when they had a moment alone.

"Oh Uryuu just worries about me," she followed her friend with her eyes as he greeted some chick that was way too hot for him. "You saying you're a bartender made him nervous."

"Bartending is a pretty lucrative career," he answered.

"Tell me about it," she said absently, "Both my parents spent every payday getting wasted, and then all the days in between as well. It kind of put a crimp in the chore of daily living."

He laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him, "Your parents were alcoholics?"

"Yeah, my dad was a mean drunk, but mom just liked to pick up strange men, which he didn't mind most of the time, because they paid good money…"

"You're fucking with me now," it had to be the only way she could be so calm about it.

"No," she smiled sweetly. "I wish I was, but when I told you that I was used to dealing with bullies and drunks, I meant it." She reached over and patted his hand on her shoulder, "But that's ancient history. They died when I was in elementary school, and my brother and I went into foster care."

"Shit," he held her gaze. "How do you keep so carefree and upbeat? I'd be mad as hell."

"My brother used to tell me that it was better to let it go, because if I held onto it I would end up just like them," she smiled reassuringly, "And I think I did pretty good by him."

"You have," he said with pride. "Your brother must be proud."

She finally lowered her gaze, "He died a few years ago in a car accident. Drunk driver," she shrugged her shoulders, but he could tell the memory still tore at her heart. Without giving it a second thought he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. To hell with the plan for the moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Thanks," she replied, as she allowed him to hold her a moment longer before she pushed back enough to look at him, "You know I haven't seen Ichigo yet. How about I take you up on that earlier offer of dancing?" She grabbed his hand that had fallen to her side, "This song is one of my favorites."

And just like that she dismissed the whole incident. He still wondered how she did it. He was a mess; had been since his dad was killed in the line of duty when he was seven. The old man was the reason he became a cop, but he lacked the inner strength Orihime possessed. His temper got the better of him and he broke a few too many rules. So now he made his own, and was surviving as a result.

She led him over to the small dance floor. Several other couples were already dancing, but he ignored them. His eyes were on Orihime who had already started swaying her hips and moving her hands above her head in rhythm to the music.

"This song takes me back," she leaned in and spoke excitedly in his ear. "It played at all the graduation parties my senior year."

She moved away and smiled as he listened to the song, his hips swaying to the beat alongside hers. She mouthed the words along with the music and he found himself getting incredibly turned on.

_Shit_, the song was all about having sex. His eyes took in her blissful expression, along with the words about going all the way and having no regrets, as her hands fondled the neckline of his shirt. His own hands found their way to her waist and he pulled her closer, their bodies only inches apart.

"Are you trying to drive me fucking mad," he whispered in her ear.

She laughed and linked her hands behind his head. "I can't help it," she said, "I just feel so different when I'm with you."

Those words, so carefree and honest, tipped him over the edge and he stared at her intently. Lowering his voice he announced, "I'm gonna kiss you."

She licked her lips in response and that was all the invitation he needed. His lips met hers with a little more gusto than their previous encounter. But unlike the last kiss, this time she was prepared. Just that slight experience and she was already opening her mouth and welcoming his gentle exploration. The light taste of strawberries tickled his senses, and he pushed further, his hands now moving lower until he gripped her ass tightly in his hands. She groaned into his mouth and he pulled her body closer, eager to show her just what she was doing to him.

As their bodies connected her eyes flew open and she broke the kiss.

"Grimmjow," she panted.

"I know," he answered, "Too fast."

"Too much," she said as she moved enough to look into his eyes.

"I just forgot myself," he said as he lifted his hand back up to her waist.

"We're still just playing a part aren't we?"

"Pretty convincingly," he grinned.

She felt her cheeks heat up. "Do you think I'm being easy?"

"This situation is anything but easy," he grew serious and his voice lowered further, "And you are far too innocent – which makes you even more desirable."

She looked down and bit her bottom lip. "Maybe we should stop this…"

"I could just fire you."

"No!" her hands flew up as she gave him a frantic stare, trying to judge just how serious he was.

"I'm kidding Orihime," he reassured her.

"But you think I'm not doing a good job."

"You're doing too good a job," he said as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat.

She blushed and looked away. Suddenly her expression changed and she grabbed his shoulder, "Oh look, Ichigo's finally here, and he's with someone."

He followed her gaze, amazed that once again she could just dismiss their conversation. There by the bar he saw the couple; the strawberry-blonde and the dark-haired girl.

Rukia Kuchiki. Grimmjow would have recognized her anywhere. The girl dripped wealth just like her stuck up brother-in-law.

"Wow, she's cute," Orihime couldn't hide her disappointment.

"And you're sexy," he whispered in her ear. "Most men prefer sexy. Remember that."

She giggled and replied, "You don't have to talk sweet. No one can hear us with this music playing."

"I'm not acting," he said curtly.

"Oh," she said and then looked away.

"So should we go say hello to the happy couple?" he asked as he placed his hand in the small of her back ready to steer her towards her friend.

"It's the reason we're here," she said coolly.

He knew this would be hard for her, and that knowledge made him desire to fuck with Kurosaki all the more. Still he was here on a job and that had priority over any personal feelings he may have towards the kid.

His hand never left her back as they made their way across the room. In fact he found himself lowering it even further as they approached her friend and his girl. Kurosaki seemed to notice right away, his face wearing a scowl as he spied just where Grimmjow's hand had finally come to rest. The strawberry blonde caught sight of Orihime and his expression changed again, and Grimmjow was pleased to see the color rising on the young man's face.

_Good, you little shit. Take a nice long look at what you threw away._

From the corner of his eye he looked at Orihime as well to watch her face as the moment she had worked for came to fruition. The idiot though wasn't even paying attention. Her gaze was on the short, dark-haired girl at Kurosaki's side.

Admittedly Rukia Kuchiki was cute. Her big blue eyes, so deep they almost appeared purple, framed by dark lashes and accented by the thick black hair that was cut in a stylish bob. Her smile was sweet, but as he stared harder at her he realized that it was not as genuine as Orihime's. He had no idea what to expect from Kuchiki's sister-in-law, but he knew, from that smile, that she was far more complicated than the image she portrayed in public.

They made small talk for a bit, but after only a few minutes Grimmjow couldn't understand what Kuchiki was worried about. The two bickered almost the entire time, with Rukia finally growing bored and asking Grimmjow if he ever shot pool. When he replied yes, she took his hand and sweetly declared that she had always wanted to play and could he teach her.

He glanced at Orihime and she nodded. That was all Rukia needed as she pulled him over to the pool table off to the side of the dance floor. He racked the balls, put some chalk on a cue stick and handed it to her. She accepted it with her trademark smile and watched patiently as he explained how to shoot.

Her first shot missed the balls completely, and most of her subsequent attempts meet a similar fate. He tried to be patient, but his attention kept getting drawn back to Orihime who was left blundering through a conversation with Ichigo.

When the first game ended he suggested they quit, but Rukia pouted and begged for one more game. He sighed, but racked the balls again. She chalked her stick and then bent over, the hem of her baby doll dress rising slightly revealing her shapely thighs.

"I'll take stripes," she spoke softly.

Eying the cue ball she grew still and then with a fair amount of force she made the break sending the various balls scattering across the table, sinking two of her balls. She stood and assessed the spread and moved to a different position.

"Ichigo thinks you're a complete asshole," she remarked as she bent down and took her next shot. "Twelve ball in the side pocket," she said and then shot, grinning as it sunk exactly where she had called it.

He gasped, more shocked by her words than her skill. She stood again and made her way down the table.

"I told him I'd have to meet you first before I decided," she continued. She chalked her cue stick and bent over again, giving him a clear view of her shapely ass; the fabric clinging seductively to her body. "I think you could fondle Orihime all day in front of him and he will never give you the satisfaction you seek," she looked up and met his eyes -blue on blue and both as cold as ice. "It's not that Ichigo won't get upset. He just sees her more like one of the guys, not some sexual object." She focused back on the table. "Fourteen in the corner pocket."

The shot once more ran true and he knew he had been hustled. She smiled sweetly as she stood and leaned against her cue stick.

"Orihime seems like a nice girl," she scanned the table as she continued, "But you seem more intent on treating her like a trophy than anything else."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," his voice lowered. "You know nothing of my feelings for her."

"I know your type," she said as she looked up and met his stare. "From your little display on the dance floor earlier I gather that you're the kind of guy that thinks women are playthings…"

"And you are the type of chick that thinks she knows everything," he stepped closer to where she stood, "But you have no clue."

"I know enough," she said calmly. "And if you think I'm going to let you mess with him, using Orihime to make your point, you are sorely mistaken."

"I just met the guy," he almost hissed. "You are making something out of nothing."

She bent down, called her shot, and sunk two more balls. Rising she said, "Stay away from Ichigo. He's a good guy and doesn't need shit from someone like you."

"And you garnered all this knowledge from watching me dancing with Orihime, and then our quick pool lesson, which by the way you had no need for. So really," he held her gaze, "Who's hustling who?"

She smiled sweetly once more, "I am not some cute little idiot, as some people assume me to be." She walked around to stand next to him. Looking up she continued, "I know a lot about people like you, and what it means to play games to get what you want. So as I said before, stay away from Ichigo."

"Or else?"

With lightening quick speed she swung the cue stick, stopping just against his neck. He stood, eyes open wide, breath coming hard, as Ichigo darted to her side and grabbing the stick yelled, "What the hell Rukia!"

She looked up at him, eyelashes batting coyly, "I was just making a point to Grimmjow here."

"I don't want to even know what kind of point," Ichigo put the cue stick back on the rack on the wall. "We are in a very public place with my friends. Can't you try to not act like a freak?"

She turned and glared at her boyfriend, "A freak?"

"Normal people don't start brawls in bars…"

"I told you I was making a point."

"I think the point was taken," Orihime interrupted.

Around them a crowd had begun to gather. Grimmjow met Rukia's gaze and began to laugh. Looking at the others around them he said, "Just a karate demonstration. Nothing to make a fuss about."

"You know karate?" Orihime looked at Rukia, oblivious that the woman had almost taken his head off with the cue stick.

The serene smile was back on the crazy girl's face. "Yeah, I know a few moves."

With that the crowd dispersed. Ichigo shot him a fierce scowl and eventually managed to escort his maniac of a girlfriend over to the bar for a drink.

"She seemed nice," Orihime said when they were finally alone.

"She tried to fucking kill me," he said in a low voice.

"I don't understand."

"Never mind," he grabbed her hand and headed for the door. "That girl is my new target. There is a lot more to this story than Kuchiki let on and I intend to find out all the shit on her that I can."

"But that's not the job…"

"Fuck the job," he turned and stared at her. It was hard to contain his rage. He hated being played a fool by anyone, let alone a shrimp of a woman like Rukia Kuchiki. "This is personal."

"Yeah, but going after the client's sister-in-law is kind of suicide," she moved her hand to his chest. "Honestly Grimmjow you need to step back, take a deep breath, and relax. In the morning this will all seem silly."

"No, it fucking won't," he replied. "And doesn't bother you that the guy you have the hots for is dating a freaking lunatic?"

"I think you are over exaggerating," she smiled calmly. "Come on, give it a good night's sleep, and promise me you will not do anything rash without consulting me first."

"You are just my secretary," his words came out harsh. "I make the rules in this business."

She straightened and her gaze turned cool. "Then find a new secretary…"

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. "Oh, no you don't. I'm very satisfied with the secretary I have."

"Then treat her with a little respect," her eyes never faltered.

Damn, she could be so determined when she wanted to be.

"Okay," he relented, "I'll take your advice."

Her anger disappeared and she smiled, "See that wasn't so hard."

Yeah, but he knew he wasn't going to change his mind either. A good night's sleep would not dispel his desire to find out who the real Rukia Kuchiki was, and when he did he might figure out what game her brother-in-law was playing as well.


	5. Chapter 5

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.  
_

**Beta: lilarin**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This chapter was long - over 5,000 words - which is more the norm for me, but in this story it is quite a lot. Still there was nowhere to really split the chapter. So hope you enjoy the added amounts. Thanks again to all who have reviewed. I am so excited to hear from so many of you. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

(While listening to _Everything_ by Alanis Morissette)

Grimmjow spent the better part of the following week looking for information on Rukia Kuchiki as well as her annoying boyfriend, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had kept this from Orihime since he knew she would disapprove. Instead he let her believe that he was still trying to prove that her friend was nothing for Byakuya Kuchiki to worry about.

And so far most of the information he had gathered on the kid did seem pretty innocuous. Though he was shocked to find out that Kurosaki's mother had been murdered right in front of him by some sicko when the kid was only eight. That had to have warped him in some way, and Grimmjow figured that once he could get a hold of any medical or psychologist's report he may find the dirt Kuchiki was looking for.

Rukia Kuchiki was a completely different story. No matter how hard he searched he couldn't find anything on her from before she had been adopted by Byakuya Kuchiki when he married her sister nine years ago. It was as if she didn't exist before then, which meant only one thing to Grimmjow – someone was covering up the psycho's past. And if that someone was Kuchiki himself, then Grimmjow was never going to get the dirt on the chick.

So he changed tactics. Rather than dig in Rukia's past he began to look into the childhood of someone else. Someone that careful observations proved closer to Kuchiki's sister-in-law than the uptight snob would want known.

Byakuya Kuchiki's bodyguard, Renji Abarai, it seemed was good friends with the crazy shrimp. Though he believed the guy was harboring a secret crush on the girl. A crush he would never admit to, and that she seemed completely oblivious.

And when he looked into Abarai's past he found plenty of crazy shit. The guy had been abandoned by his loser parents when he was just a kid, and after years in and out of foster care, had taken up with some group of punks, terrorizing the projects where he lived. Then, through some educational, do-good program the kid ended up in some magnet school where he amazingly proved to be very smart, scoring top grades.

And there, in the yearbook from the kid's last year there, the same year Byakuya Kuchiki was married, Grimmjow found a picture of a petite, blue-eyed pixie – Rukia Kuchiki – only she went by a different last name. The name she was given at birth by whoever it was that left her to rot in the system just like her friend.

After that she disappeared, only to show up again at some private girls' school, with a new last name, and a new set of friends. Yet all these years later that delinquent Abarai was back, and in Kuchiki's employ. Maybe the blue-blood figured it was better to keep the guy under his watchful eye, rather than let him shoot off his mouth about the girl. But whatever his reasons, Grimmjow knew he would never get anything out of the guy.

Still his past had been enough, for now. And with all these thoughts churning in his head, Grimmjow opened the door to his office. Orihime rushed forward, alarm on her face as she spoke rapidly, "I'm sorry…I told them not to go into your office, but they wouldn't listen…and even though all they've been doing is sitting there, they weren't invited…"

He moved past her quickly and rushed into his office. "Get the fuck out of here!" he yelled as he spotted the two women sitting close together on his couch.

They both stood as he spoke, but it was the taller, dark-skinned one that addressed him calmly, "I see you still have no manners."

"Not when it comes to you," he didn't bother trying to hide his anger. "Now get out before I call the cops."

She laughed lightly and said, "Have you forgotten, I work for the police."

"You're a filthy nark," he spat as he moved closer. "I'm sure that there are plenty of good cops who would love the chance to take a go at you."

She crossed her arms and smiled while the shorter woman beside her glared at him and replied hotly, "You shouldn't talk to her like that."

"It's not like he knows any better Sui-Feng," Yoruichi Shihoin replied coolly. "He lacks refinement…"

"What I lack is patience for two bitches that stole from me…"

"We only took from you what was ours." Yoruichi replied calmly.

"Bullshit!" he yelled as he felt his control slip away. "You sent your bitch to fuck with my body, while you fucked over everything else."

"You really are crude," Yoruichi uncrossed her arms and strode to where he stood. "And as I already stated, I only took back what was rightfully mine."

"You don't hold a monopoly on information…"

"You obtained that information illegally," she stopped within an arms length in front of him. "I could have had you thrown in jail for what you did."

"Don't do me any favors bitch." Grimmjow almost growled. "It took me years to gather all that shit. Do you even realize how many cops I had to pay off just to get them to talk? Everything I had went into that investigation."

"It's over Jaegerjaquez," she shook her head, "And you need to face the facts. Your father was a crooked cop and he died in a deal that went bad…"

"Fuck you!" he yelled as he closed the distance and got right into the dark-skinned bitch's face. "My father was a good man…"

"The investigation proved otherwise."

"You're full of shit." He refused to back down. "All of you are full of shit. My old man was loyal to the force and you guys set him up to take the fall."

"I'm sorry," she said and Grimmjow hated the pity he heard in her voice. "I wish it could have been different, but all the evidence pointed to your father. I looked into it myself when you joined the force, and every incriminating fact proved his guilt."

"That's easy for you to say," he ignored her. "You and your team of narks were just looking for trouble. After all that's the purpose of your unit…"

"My unit investigates allegations of criminal activity within the police force," she said sternly. "We take all suspicious reports seriously. No one wanted your father to be guilty, he was a good cop, but everything proved otherwise. He was taking bribes and turning a blind eye to the dangerous activities going on, on his beat."

"I had information that proved he was innocent," Grimmjow countered, "And you stole it."

"That information could have harmed many other people…"

"Yeah, the crooked cops that got let off with a slap on the wrist because they ratted on their own."

"You don't know all the details…"

"I was close to finding out.

"You were close to getting yourself killed," she finally raised her voice in exasperation.

"I was willing to take that risk."

"You are a reckless idiot," she stated.

"Is there a point to this or did you come here to steal something else from me," he taunted.

"Actually," she stared back at him, "I have come for something."

"You took everything I had on my old man."

"I'm not here about that," she said. "I'm here about Rukia Kuchiki."

"No idea who you're talking about," he replied coolly.

"Don't act stupid." Sui-Feng cut in harshly, "We know Byakuya Kuchiki hired you for a job."

"And word has it that you are sticking your nose once more where it doesn't belong," Yoruichi finished.

"I can't discuss this with you," he said as he crossed his own arms angrily.

"I'm not here to discuss anything," Yoruichi replied. "Just give me whatever information you have and I'll act like this incident never happened."

"I'm not giving you anything," he bit out.

"Byakuya will not be happy to know that you are running a separate investigation…"

"Then don't tell him," he said, "After all it's not like there's any love between you two."

"Regardless of our relationship, we still look out for each other."

"Yeah that's right, two blue-bloods protecting their kind."

"You have no reason to be digging around in Rukia's past," Yoruichi said slowly as if speaking to a young child. "All you will do is hurt her, and hurt yourself. Byakuya will destroy you if he finds out."

"I'm not afraid of him," he stared her down.

"Then you truly are an idiot," she shook her head. "Regardless, hand it over."

"Hand what over?" he placed his hands in his pockets.

"I know you always keep your most valuable items on your body."

He smirked and shot Sui-Feng a look. "I don't suppose she told you just what she did to get the key to my filing cabinet. All that moaning and panting wasn't just for show." He glanced back at Yoruichi, "She fucking loved every minute of it."

Sui-Feng screamed as she lunged for him, but Yoruichi stopped her. Placing her hands squarely on the girl's shoulders she said soothingly, "He's just trying to get you upset. I know he's lying."

"Are you sure about that?" he grinned as Sui-Feng reached past her lover trying to get at him. "Because you'd really have to be some kind of actress to blow a guy you weren't even interested in…"

In a flash Yoruichi released Sui-Feng and spun around punching him hard in the face. He stumbled back. Behind him he heard Orihime shriek, and he grew ashamed of what he had said, having forgotten she was even there.

"You are a real piece of shit," Yoruichi said as she relaxed her stance slightly.

"You're the one that sent your lover to seduce me."

"Sui-Feng did what was necessary," Yoruichi said regaining her composure, "And if she enjoyed herself in the process, I'm not going to hold that against her."

"And you think I'm crazy? You are one seriously fucked up chick."

"I want the information Jaegerjaquez," she took a deep breath. "We can do this civilly or I can beat the crap out of you and still get the info."

"Try it bitch," he said.

She nodded briefly to her lover and then gave Grimmjow her full attention. He braced himself as Yoruichi swung at him again, but he dodged the strike. Behind him he heard a thud and a muffled cry. Turning, he spotted Orihime pinned to the wall by Sui-Feng.

"It's for her own protection," Yoruichi said in all seriousness. "I think you know just how dangerous it would be for her to get in the middle of this."

He nodded and raised his hands. He had boxed throughout high school, even made some money on the side. Still he had heard about Yoruichi, and he knew he would be lucky if he was able to stand on his own when she was done. Still it was the principle behind it. Nobody came into his office and demanded that he turn over information that he had worked so hard to obtain. The least he could do was make her hurt as well in the process.

* * *

Orihime struggled in Sui-Feng's grasp. She hadn't expected the woman to pin her against the wall, but then again all of this was rather shocking to her. The women had seemed polite enough when they entered the office, but their insistence that they wait for Grimmjow in his private office set alarm bells ringing in her head.

Now, with Grimmjow fighting the taller of the two, and her being held by her boss' old secretary, and lover, she felt helpless. She could hear him taking blow upon blow. His face was already swollen where the woman had punched him initially, and she wondered just how much he would take before he gave them what they came for.

"Please let me go," Orihime pleaded with the woman holding her tightly.

"You heard Yoruichi," Sui-Feng spoke low, "It's safer for you here."

"But I need to help him."

"There's nothing you can do," the woman sounded annoyed. "Besides he'll just get distracted by you, and then he'll really get hurt."

"How can you act so cool about this," Orihime grew frantic as she heard her boss crash into his desk and then his curse as he struggled back to his feet. "You were involved with him…"

"He was merely an assignment," Sui-Feng hissed. "No different than any other job I had to perform. Only gaining his trust took a little longer than I would have liked."

Orihime became angry at the woman's words. It was one thing to grow tired of someone you were involved with, but to fool him into believing she ever cared was despicable. Admittedly Grimmjow was a ladies man, but he still had feelings, and he deserved to be treated with honesty.

She began to thrash around wildly, trying to break the woman's hold on her. In the end all she managed to do was turn her head to the side where she had a better view of the fight. But by then it was pretty much over. Grimmjow lay on the floor with Yoruichi crouched above him. She had one knee pinning him between the shoulder blades to hold him place, while she patted down his body with her hands.

"Shit," Grimmjow taunted, "If you wanted to get sexual you should have said something – or was this your idea of foreplay."

The dark-skinned woman ignored him and continued on. As she reached beneath him, and into the pocket of his jeans, he began to squirm and buck violently. Orihime could see a small smile grace the woman's face and behind her she heard Sui-Feng suck in a breath in anticipation.

"You have no right to take my stuff," Grimmjow spat as he tried unsuccessfully to shake her off.

"I'm doing you a favor idiot," Yoruichi leaned closer. Pulling out her hand from his pocket she inspected a USB drive that she had found. "So I see you've decided to join the technological age." She laid the small device on the ground beside his face and nodded towards Sui-Feng.

The smaller woman released Orihime and walked over to where her lover knelt. Raising her foot, she brought it down hard on the object, crushing it and destroying any information he may have stored on it. Grimmjow cursed and Sui-Feng smiled.

"You're no smarter now than you were a few months ago," she spoke low.

"Smart enough not to hire a dyke for my secretary," his words came out harsh.

Yoruichi dug her knee harder into his back and he groaned. Looking up at Orihime, who had moved to just a few feet from where they were, she said, "You would be wise to get as far away from him as you can. This guy cares for no one but himself and his desire for revenge. In the end he will only hurt you."

"I'll be the judge of that," Orihime spoke with confidence. No one told her what to do; it was the one thing that she would never tolerate.

Yoruichi surprised her with a smile and stood, and turned to Sui-Feng, "I think that does it." She glanced down at Grimmjow, "Someday you will understand why I did what I did, both today and those months ago."

"Fuck you," Grimmjow struggled to right himself.

Orihime was at his side in a flash and assisted him as he sat back against his desk. His face was swollen and his left eye was sealed shut and surrounded by purple flesh. Blood discolored his teeth and stained his crisp white shirt in places.

Yoruichi gave no reply. Instead she took Sui-Feng's hand and silently left them.

"Goddamned fucking bitch!" Grimmjow tried to stand but lacked the strength to do so on his own.

"We should get you to a doctor," Orihime became frantic with worry.

"I don't need a doctor."

"But you're bleeding…"

"The blood is the worst of it," he stared out the door where the two woman had just left. "Yoruichi is an expert at martial arts. She knows how to hurt a person without doing serious harm if you know what I mean. There are no broken bones or wounds that require care from a doctor," he turned to look at Orihime, "But I will feel like shit tomorrow – more so than I do right now."

He tried to laugh, but all he managed to do was get more blood all over his shirt.

"Then at least let me take care of you," she started to rise to get a clean washcloth and some ice from the mini fridge they kept in the office.

"You should go home," Grimmjow said as he closed his eyes and leaned back heavy against the desk. "Yoruichi was right. You should get the hell away from me. I'll bring you nothing but pain…"

"All you manage to bring me right now is aggravation," she grew stern. "But I'm a big girl. I've been through worse, so don't try to act all chivalrous, it doesn't work."

"Ouch," he said mockingly, "You know how to hurt a guy when he's down."

"That's not what I meant," she stood completely and walked into his bathroom. Grabbing a clean washcloth she wet it and returned to his side. Bending down she began to gently wash the blood from his face. "Ichigo is chivalrous. Whenever there was the slightest sign of trouble growing up he would always be there to take care of things. He fought all my battles for me, and as a result I never got stronger. Even now he still sees me as helpless." She noticed him tense as she spoke of her friend and childhood crush. Tenderly she traced her finger over the cut that marred his down-turned lips, "But you…you always speak your mind and never censure yourself. When you see something I need to change, you tell me so, and when I need to be strong you give me the chance to try."

"You are a lot stronger than you realize," he said softly, almost as if he were pouting.

She smiled warmly and replied, "And I know that now because of you."

"You give me too much credit," he said as he reached up and took the washcloth from her hands. As he touched the swollen flesh around his eye with care he continued, "You make me sound like a nice guy…"

"I wouldn't say nice," her smile grew as she went and got him some ice. Returning she gave it to him and took the dirty washcloth. "You are rather crude," she said as he placed the bag to his eye, "And there are times when I want to wash your mouth out with soap, but you have a sincere heart…"

"I have lousy taste in bed partners," he interrupted.

"Maybe you should stop trying to sleep with every woman you meet," she stopped smiling and looked down at the rag that she was now gripping tightly.

"Just my secretaries," he said absently and she stood back up. Quietly she returned to the bathroom and rinsed the blood from the cloth.

Looking into the mirror she grimaced. She was an idiot of epic proportions. She was ill equipped, she realized too late, to keep up with this game they were playing. She gave her heart to one person at a time. For years she had crooned over Ichigo while he never even noticed her, and now, like the stupidest of women, she had begun to fall for her boss; a boss that viewed sex as a recreational activity, and had no problem pretending to be her boyfriend for the sake of the job.

But she wasn't like that. She couldn't play games. When he kissed her that first time she had been shocked at how her body had reacted to him. And when he kissed her again she had been anticipating it, and her body desired more than she was prepared to give. And now, well now he had made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.

"Orihime," Grimmjow came walking into the bathroom. He leaned against the door jam and stared at her silently as she finished her task.

"You shouldn't be up," she said as she turned off the water.

"I upset you," he replied as he took a step closer.

"Well I'm the idiot who can't tell fact from fiction," she squeezed the excess water from the rag.

He came closer and reached around her to still her hands. Gazing at her through their reflections in the mirror he said softly, "I'm the idiot. I asked you to do something that I knew you wouldn't be comfortable doing. I should have realized that pretending to care about me as a guy was crossing the line between boss and employee."

"That's not it at all," she met his gaze with a bold stare. If she didn't say it now she would regret it forever. "I just suck at pretend. I mean I have a very lively imagination, but when it comes to acting, I'm not the best. And when I was with you I guess I forgot that it was just a game, and I began to think that maybe…well that would be foolish. After all it would go against everything I believe in to sleep with my boss…"

His good eye opened wide, "But you're a virgin."

"Yeah," she looked down now too embarrassed to meet his gaze any longer.

"You've never slept with anyone…"

"That would go with the whole virgin thing," she felt her face flush.

"Are you saying you want to sleep with me?"

"Oh my gosh," she squinted her eyes shut tight. "No…I mean yes…I mean no…I just mean…" She turned and faced him, opening her eyes and meeting his stunned expression. "I just mean that I have feelings for you, and I didn't mean to have them, but they just sort of happened, and now when I look at you I just think about that kiss at the party, and how I enjoyed it, and how I enjoy being with you, because when I'm with you I feel strong and competent… and I like that woman… more so than the timid wimp I become around Ichigo."

"That sounds a lot more serious than just a romp in the hay," he said softly, his voice sincere, almost surprised, and she felt like an even bigger fool for confiding such things.

Looking down she whispered, "Just forget it, okay. I'm just being emotional."

He remained silent and when she finally was able to meet his gaze again she noticed that he had grown pale, the bruises standing out even more than earlier.

"You really should lie down," she said. "Let me get you something for the pain."

He moved to the side to let her pass saying, "In the bottom right-hand side of my desk."

She nodded as she may her way to the desk. Opening the drawer she found a bottle of Jack Daniels. "This isn't what I had in mind," she said as she pushed the bottle aside to look for some Motrin.

"It'll do the trick better than anything else," he said as he slowly sat down on the couch across the room.

She sighed as she reached for the bottle. As she lifted it out of the drawer she noticed a photograph lying beneath it. Picking it up she was shocked to see Grimmjow with a small child. Both grinned boyishly at the camera, their hair wet from the bath and gelled into Mohawks. Both were flexing to show off the muscles in their arms and bare chests.

"Orihime?" he called out as she remained bent over the drawer.

She straightened with the photo still in her hand. As he spied the picture she felt herself blush. "Sorry," she stammered, "I just saw this and was curious."

"It's my old man," he said as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "I was four when that picture was taken."

Of course it was his father. Now that she looked closer she could see that even if the man looked very much like his son there were subtle differences. His father's hair was sandy blonde, not ash, and his eyes were brown, where as Grimmjow's were a brilliant shade of blue.

She placed the photo back in the drawer and closed it. Walking over to the couch she sat down beside him and held out the bottle.

He opened his good eye and made a slight grin, "Good girl," he said as he took the bottle and unscrewed the lid.

Taking a long drink he lowered it and sighed. Turning to her he held it out in invitation. She rarely drank, and never anything this strong, but after all that she had been through today she gladly welcomed the bottle. She took a drink and [then] gasped as the liquid burned a path down her throat and then spread into a comfortable warmth in her chest.

He took the bottle back and took another swig. Looking straight ahead she said, "You really loved him."

He lowered the bottle and exhaled deeply. "He wasn't a crooked cop."

She understood what it was like to wish desperately that your parents were so much more than the reality of their everyday existence. And in all honesty she had no idea if Grimmjow's dad did the things he was accused of, but she knew that until he reconciled the man he knew to the man the world saw, he would never be able to put his past behind him.

She remained silent, simply placing her hand on his knee to reassure him that she was listening. "When he was killed, my mom gave up on him. She was so disillusioned and so angry," his voice was bitter. "She slowly began to remove any evidence from our lives that he ever existed. His pictures began to disappear, boxed away in the attic. And when all the reminders of him were gone she still had me, and whenever she looked in my face, she saw him."

"I'm sorry," Orihime whispered.

"Yeah, well I learned how to stay out her way, and when I was ten she married some other guy and we moved away from the city," he took another long drink. "He didn't get along with me, but then I wasn't looking for a replacement for my old man, and he gave up trying. And once she popped out a few kids with him, I was more in the way than before, so I left."

She was speechless. It was no wonder he wanted to prove his father's innocence. He had lost everything when the man died.

"Sometimes I hate him for leaving, and I doubt him, and the man I knew he was," he took one last drink, finishing what little remained in the bottle. Leaning forward he dropped the empty container and ran his hands through his hair. "I've spent my adult life trying to prove his innocence, and everywhere I turn I just get slapped in the face with his guilt. And then, when I finally find a small glimmer of hope, those two bitches stole it away from me."

She moved from her place on the couch to kneel in front of him. He lifted his head to look at her and she spoke softly, "I wish there was a way I could take away your pain."

"There's nothing you could say."

"I suppose not," she replied. Instead she rose to her feet and reached out for him, resting his head against her chest as she tenderly ran her fingers through his hair. His arms hung limp at his sides and then slowly he responded, burying his face deeper against her chest.

"I'm like poison," his voice cracked as he spoke in a hush. "Everything I touch just goes to crap." He squeezed her tighter. "And as much as I want you to get the hell out of my life, I can't bring myself to push you away."

"Then stop trying," she whispered.

"But I'm a selfish bastard…"

She pushed back and stared hard into his good eye. Finding courage in her feelings for him she leaned her face down and pressed her mouth gently against his. Tentatively her tongue ran along his lips. She could taste the coppery tang of blood mingled with the sweet of the bourbon, and regardless she found herself wanting to take more.

His hand moved to the back of her head as she pushed her tongue forward into his mouth. Words would never be sufficient, she decided, not with a man like him. Instead she used her body, and he greedily took everything she offered.

His hand left her head and he grabbed her hips, lifting her and placing her on his lap. Her legs straddled his waist and she could feel how much more he desired from her. Breaking contact for a moment she stared at him, knowing they both wanted more, but feeling in her heart that this was not the time or place for such an act.

"You deserve better than me," his voice was harsh. "You need a guy that will value what you have to give."

"I think I've found that guy…"

"Not me."

"Don't sell yourself short," she replied.

"You know the type of guy I am."

"Yes," she smiled, "I do."

"Then you should get the hell away."

She shook her head.

"I'm not some knight in shining armor like Kurosaki," he reminded her.

"I'm not looking for a knight."

"I'll only hurt you."

"Chances are you will," she kissed him tenderly and pulled back, "But I'm sure if you give me time I'll eventually return the favor."

He grinned, "You are unlike any other woman I have ever known."

"I hope that's a good thing," she smiled as well.

"I'll let you know in time," he replied. "But I suppose right now you leave me no choice but to fire you again."

"I was about to quit anyways," she teased, "I have this thing about getting involved with my boss."

"How about sleeping with your partner?" he asked and she narrowed her eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"How much cash you got on you?"

"What?"

"How much cash?" he asked again.

"About fifty cents," she said, "But I was gonna buy a paper with that on the way home."

"Well," he leaned in and nibbled on her earlobe, "I was thinking of selling half the business. Fifty cents sounds reasonable."

"You're crazy."

"So I've been told."

"You're being serious?" she gasped as he bit down.

"Serious as a heart attack," he eased up on her ear.

"So then the front office would be mine to decorate as I see fit?" she asked.

"As long as you don't put up any pictures of fuzzy rabbits…"

"But I have a real cute one with floppy ears and all."

"Fuck no."

"Okay no cute bunnies, but you have to clean up your language."

"Deal's off then," he licked around her lobe.

She squirmed against him and said, "If that's how you feel…"

"Damn it woman," he growled. "I can't promise anything."

"Just remember that I have plenty of cutesy posters at home…"

His tongue plunged into her ear and she groaned in pleasure.

"So partners?" she asked when she could speak again.

"Partners," his breath was warm against her skin. "So partner," he continued, "I'm thinking that I'm gonna take you right here on this couch. Gotta problem with that?"

Her heart began to race in her chest. As much as she desired him, she was still scared about making such a life changing move.

He pulled back and stared long and hard at her. "Shit," he finally spoke, "Sorry, I forget at times that you've never done this before."

She blushed and looked away. "I want to, I really do…"

"No," he forced her eyes back to his. "Not here. Not like this."

Carefully he removed her from his lap. Rising to his feet he said, "I'm really not in any shape to drive. Can you give me a lift home?" She nodded and he grabbed his keys from his pocket. "You could stay the night if you want."

She felt her face heat up again at the prospect of a night spent in his arms. "I'll think about it."

He grinned and tossed the keys her way. No matter what the evening brought, she knew her life was about to change, and that knowledge thrilled and terrified her at the same time.


	6. Chapter 6

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters._

**Beta: lilarin**

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**Author's Notes:  
**

Some days I have nothing left in my brain for author's notes. This is one of those days. So thank you all who have left so many reviews and shared your enthusiasm for the story. As I have mentioned this story moves fast and is soon drawing to a conclusion. Three chapters left after this one. I will be sad when it is over as I have enjoyed it greatly. I can only hope my Grimmhime muse brings another idea my way!

So please share your thoughts on the chapter - I love to hear from you!

* * *

**Chapter Six**

(While listening to _Mystery Girl_ by Roy Orbison)

In the end Orihime did not spend the night in his apartment. Those damn principles he supposed. As much as she may have wanted to stay, she couldn't bring herself to do so. Instead she tended to his injuries, made sure he was comfortable, and then quietly left once he had fallen asleep.

Yet a peaceful sleep was impossible for him. His thoughts, muffled by the Jack Daniels, kept going back to that moment on the couch. She had wanted him, it was evident by her bold actions, but she also wanted more, and he knew that he was the wrong guy for that.

So why didn't he put an end to it then and there? Why didn't he just fire her and get her the hell out of his life? In the end, if she stayed, she would just wind up disillusioned and hurt. That was why, as a rule, he never slept with virgins. They had different expectations. They expected forever, and he was the type of guy that lived in the moment. Attachments were something that he had given up on a long time ago.

Soifon should have been proof of that. She completely played him, and he paid the price by losing all the information he had gathered on his old man. He should have known better than to let her get close, but sometimes his dick ruled his actions far more aggressively than his brain.

And now - now he wasn't sure. Orihime left him wound up like a top waiting for a release that he was dying to experience, but at the same time dreading. Dreading because he was afraid that deep down inside of him, in that place where he was still aching to be loved, he was thinking instead with his heart. And that bastard had left him alone and disappointed for a good part of his life.

Now, as he made his way out into her section of the office, for yet another cup of coffee that he didn't really want, he wondered what he was doing. She smiled at him and asked if she should start another pot. He drained what was left into his cup and told her no. Better to get rid of this stupid excuse to wander in just for the chance to be near her.

"Grimmjow," she stood and made her way over to where he stood staring into his coffee. Taking the pot and beginning to clean it out she continued, "About yesterday…"

He looked up at her and answered, "Yes?"

"Well you mentioned being partners, and I wasn't sure if you really meant it, because that's kind of a big deal when you think about it, and I know that we were kind of swept up in the moment, and if you want to take it back I won't be offended."

She looked down at the coffee pot in her hand and quickly turned off the water and began to dry it.

This was his chance. If he told her he was drunk and not thinking clearly, then maybe he could take it back and things could go back to the way they were, and he could push her out of his life without hurting her.

She continued to fumble with the pot as she dried it, and when she finished she placed it back on the burner and turned to smile at him. Yet in that smile he saw uncertainty, and he knew that if he went along with her, and blew off yesterday, he would be throwing back in her face all she had confided to him before they had kissed, before he had declared that he couldn't let her go.

What an idiot he was. He had already led her on too much not to hurt her. Yet he couldn't continue this. It would just blow up in both their faces. The air around him grew heavy and he found it hard to breathe. He had to get away from her and clear his head, before he said or did something he would truly regret.

He placed the coffee mug on the counter and fished for the keys in his pocket. Grasping them he looked up at her and said, "I have work to do. Don't wait for me to return."

Her brows knit together and she said softly, "I understand."

"No", he stopped at the door, his hand gripping the knob tightly, "You have absolutely no clue."

With that he opened the door and walked out leaving her silently in his wake. Damn it he was such a coward at times. He headed to the elevator, and then recalling his first encounter with her there, he decided instead to take the stairs. There was a bar around the corner. He would get a drink and clear his head. Once he had gained a little more courage, he would tell her that she had to go. After all it was the honorable thing to do. She was so young and so trusting and she needed a man who would cherish her and give what she desired, without conditions.

He was definitely not that man.

* * *

Orihime opened the door and looked about the smoky interior for Grimmjow. She found him slumped over at the bar; an empty glass beside him. One of many she guessed.

The bartender had called her a few hours after her boss had left the office. He said that he couldn't let the guy drive home in such a state and that she was the only name he managed to get out of him before he passed out.

Walking over to where he sat, she came to a stop behind him, bent down, and said loudly in his ear, "I hear you need a ride home."

He shot up straight on his stool and grabbed his head with both hands. "Shit, do you have to yell?"

"Am I yelling?" she boomed purposely.

He turned and glared at her through his one good eye. "You are a cruel and heartless woman."

"And you are an inconsiderate jerk to make me have to come down here and drag you home."

"I didn't ask you to come."

"Yes, you did," she lowered her voice just a fraction. "You gave my number to the bartender."

His words came out slurred as he said with a sly grin, "He asked me if I knew any hot chicks…"

She reached for the keys that the bartender placed on the counter, "You are lucky that you're still recovering from yesterday, or I would give you a beating…"

"Promises, promises," he picked up the empty glass and tipped it into his mouth trying to get any remaining alcohol.

She grabbed the glass from him and handed it to the man behind the bar. Reaching out she placed her hand on his upper arm and grabbed tightly.

"Get up, Jaegerjaquez," her voice a deadly whisper now. The anger inside of her was causing her to literally see red. Taking a deep breath she began to ease him from the bar stool. "I'm taking you home."

"I'm liking the sound of that," he slurred even more as he stumbled to his feet.

"You sure you don't want me to call someone else?" the bartender asked.

She looked up and smiled pleasantly at the man, "I'm used to dealing with drunks. I can handle him."

"Shit baby, I'm not some drunk loser," Grimmjow pulled his arm back and stared down at her. He swayed a bit, and reached for the counter to steady himself.

She ignored his comment, came up beside him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder so that he could lean on her for support.

"I can walk on my own," he said indignantly.

She gripped him tighter; her anger now blazing in her gut. "Shut up and walk."

He stiffened at her words, but then relaxed, "When you talk like that I get all warm inside."

She suddenly released him and the motion caused him to sway and fall to his knees. He looked up at her and she saw anger in his cold, blue eyes as well. He may be pissed, but she was too.

"Don't you dare treat me like that," she said as she bent down and stared back. "I am not my mother," she continued as the pain from her past caused her to say things she never would normally. "I will not let some man speak to me like I am some floozy. You asked for help and I am giving it to you, but if you say something sexual like that again I will leave you here to find another way home."

His good eye held hers in silence. She remained firm, refusing to back down, regardless of how anxious his glare was making her. She remembered her father's heavy hand whenever her mother stood up to him. She knew how mean drunks could be. Grimmjow was a decent man, but who knew what he would do when provoked.

He pushed himself up, sitting back on his knees. He stared a moment more, and something in his gaze changed. Slowly he lifted his hand towards her face. Instinct kicked in and she flinched. The small motion was not missed by his still observant eye, and he hesitated a moment before he swore softly. Then, once more, his hand continued its path until he cupped her cheek tenderly.

"I am such a fucking piece of shit," he whispered.

She crouched silently. Words were lost to her at this moment. He was not her father and she was not her mother, and though he wrestled with his own demons, he was a good man at heart.

Lifting her hand she placed it on his, "Please let me get you home."

He nodded and using the barstool to brace himself, began to stand. Once more she stood beside him and he leaned heavily against her. They left the bar in silence. She saw his car parked along the street and unlocked it. Once he was inside she got in and started the engine. This was becoming a habit, she realized.

An uncomfortable feeling gripped her. Was she wrong about him? Maybe he was poison like he had said yesterday. Glancing over at him slumped down in his seat she shook her head. No, he was just a lost soul, no different from her. And where she was willing to try and trust people, he could not. Well at least at the moment.

But she was stubborn, and patient. After all she had clung to the hope that Ichigo would notice her for almost eight years now. However, where she had no chance with her friend, she knew that Grimmjow desired her. Still sexual desire was far different than love.

Yet did she even love him? She had fallen for him, but love? Love was such a deep emotion. Maybe that was why she left him last night and returned to her own apartment. She couldn't give herself to him physically without doing so with her heart as well. If he only desired sexual gratification, then she would be an even bigger fool than she had been with Ichigo if she gave into him with the hopes that he would grow to love her.

Still Grimmjow had held back last night. He wanted her, but sensing her uncertainty, had backed down. Maybe if she gave him time he would find a place in his heart for her.

* * *

When Grimmjow woke up the room was still shrouded in darkness. He was grateful for that because his head felt as if it would split open at any moment. Consequently he lay as still as possible, but even his breathing caused him excruciating pain. Shit, he had really been a stupid moron to get so wasted. He should have known to stop, but his heart wouldn't stop nagging at him and no matter how much he drank he couldn't silence the traitorous organ.

Now he was paying the price, and paying a great price at that. A sweet aroma suddenly tickled his nose and the smell, though oddly familiar, made his sensitive stomach roll. He shot out of bed, his head pounding furiously, and ran to the bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before he threw up the contents of his queasy stomach. Soon there was nothing left and he began to gag on bile.

Sweet Jesus, he hadn't been drunk like this since the first night he left home over twelve years ago. Back then he had drunk to diffuse the pain, now he did it to drown out Orihime's stricken expression when he had left that afternoon.

He sat hugging the porcelain bowl, his head draped over the rim, panting as his body grew chilled from the sweat that had broken out when he began to puke. He was a fucking mess and all because of a woman. It was pathetic.

He gave himself a few more minutes before he stood slowly and turned on the shower. He could smell the smoke from the bar now mingled with the lingering odor of vomit. Letting the water grow unbearably hot he stripped naked and stepped inside. The heat soothed his still aching muscles, and helped focus his brain on something else besides his stomach. When he was finished he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to the sink.

"You look like fucking shit my friend," he said to his reflection.

The swelling had finally gone down and he was able to open his eye, but the area around it was still an angry purple mess. His chin also sported a dulling bruise and the cut on his lip was scabbed over and itched like a son-of-a-bitch. His good looks had taken a momentary hit, but he knew that by end of the following week it would be as if the beating had never happened.

He grinned as he thought about how that bitch Yoruichi thought she had gotten the best of him, but the joke was on her. He had indeed learned his lesson when she stole the information on his father. The USB drive has been blank. He carried it for just such an occasion. Any real data he had was now backed up through a friend who did all his hacking and intelligence work – at least the real hard to find, usually illegal to obtain kind of documents. In fact the guy was looking into Kurosaki's medical records right now. If anyone could get into sealed records it was his silent partner. The partner Orihime didn't need to know existed, because she would never approve.

He picked up his toothbrush, squeezed out some paste from the tube by the sink, and began to brush the taste of the puke from his mouth. He really should fire her, he thought again. She didn't need to be tied to him and all the shit that came with the way he did his business. People sought him out for a reason. They wanted the dirt that a more scrupulous man would never search for. Nevertheless people who broke the rules ran a risk of getting caught, and Orihime didn't need to get involved in something like that.

No, he would let her go.

Tomorrow.

First thing when he got to the office…

"Grimmjow?" she asked from the doorway.

He bolted up straight; toothpaste still foaming in his mouth.

"Fuck!" he mumbled. He spit out the toothpaste, rinsed, and turned to look at her. She blushed as she stared at the towel around his waist. "I needed a shower," he said.

"Yes," she stuttered, "I can see that. I just…well I heard you…and I wanted to make sure you were okay…"

Suddenly the sweet smell from earlier came back to him. "You were sleeping next to me."

She burned an even deeper shade of red. He glanced at her and took in his t-shirt, so big it looked like a small dress on her. Her hair was a disheveled mess, and he began to feel his stomach drop again.

"Did we…I mean I was drunk…and I don't…I mean…shit."

"You passed out after I managed to get your shirt off," she stammered. "I mean I was just trying to make you comfortable, and since you had asked me to stay I felt bad leaving until I knew you were going to be okay. So I laid down next to you and fell asleep. And then it was so late when I woke up that I couldn't catch a bus. So I put on one of your t-shirts because my clothes were not comfortable for sleeping and…"

"We didn't do anything?" he began to feel his stomach unclench.

"Oh my, gosh no," she waved her hands furiously, "Nothing like that."

"Good," he replied, and when he noticed her face fall amended quickly, "You deserve better than that for your first time."

"I agree," she whispered.

"I mean I've slept with so many women…"

"None of whom you were in love with."

"Exactly," he said and then furrowed his brows. "Wait, those women all wanted to sleep with me."

"I didn't say they didn't," she tried to smile, "I am sure that it's not hard for a guy like you to find women willing to have a one night stand, or longer, I guess, because you were involved with Sui Feng," she bit her lip and grew silent.

"I wasn't in love with her," he stepped closer to where she stood. Reaching up he played with a strand of her hair that draped lazily over her shoulder. Looking straight into her eyes he decided that now was as good as anytime to push her away, "I don't believe in love."

"Well then," she held his stare, "I guess there's no need to offer me the partnership since I don't want to get involved with a guy sexually when love isn't in the equation. And you obviously don't want to bed someone who wants more than a good romp in the hay."

He released her hair and stepped back. "You're still angry."

"Angry?"

"From earlier," he said as the memories from the bar came back to him. "I was a shit to call you. I knew what your parents had been like, and you didn't need for me to put you through the same crap."

She looked down and played with the hem of the shirt. "I've learned to let things go. You know," she looked up and her eyes were glassy, "Find that serenity, even as the world is crashing out of control around you. It's no big deal."

"You thought I was going to hit you, didn't you?" he asked as he remembered her flinching as he had raised his hand to caress her cheek.

"My father could get violent," she looked away.

He reached out and placed his hand on her chin and gently turned her to meet his gaze. "Orihime I have done many shitty things in my life, but I would never strike a woman…well not unless she was beating the crap out of me like Yoruichi."

She laughed and he smiled.

"I should get some clothes on," he said as he made his way back into the bedroom. "Any idea what time it is?"

"Around 1:00 in the morning," she remained in the bathroom, her back to him while he put on his underwear and some pajama pants.

Once his clothes were on he walked back and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. "It's too late to return home, and I still feel like shit, so how about you stay and I can drop you by your apartment in the morning."

She nodded and turned around. Once more she put on a brave front, but he could see disappointment in her eyes, and he knew she was holding back from him, trying to downplay how their conversation had affected her. Yet he was clueless as to what to say to make it better. So instead he took her hand and led her to his bed. In silence they lay down and he reached for her, pulling her to his side, resting her head against his chest.

"I'm so sorry Orihime," he whispered into her hair.

She remained silent, but he could feel the dampness of her tears on his bare chest. He was so ill-equipped to deal with this, so he did the only thing he could. Wrapping his arms tighter he gave her the time she needed to deal with this on her own. If she had wanted him to comfort her with words she wouldn't have waited for the cover of darkness to let the tears fall. She would have broken down in the bathroom, when he had first seen the disappointment on her face.

Instead she needed to be strong and do this alone. He understood that kind of pain. Where no one can offer solace, and the answers only come with time. So he held on, and after a while he realized that she wasn't the only one licking her wounds in silence.

He was confused, more so than he had ever been in his life. He wondered how long it had been since he had simply held a woman in his arms, or had been held in return for that matter. He purposely engaged in sex the way he did so that he could avoid such things as this. But holding her like this felt so good, and he knew that if he continued he ran the risk of letting her in; of letting her get a chance at holding his heart in her grasp.

Shit, who was he kidding? She was already there. All he could do was try to push her out. But it was harder to do than he would have thought. And he knew that if he couldn't let her go then he would need to make changes. Yet these changes went far beyond simply refraining from coarse language as she had suggested yesterday. No he would have to rethink how he did his business, and how he operated outside the law at times. But hardest of all would be the fact that he would have to let go of his past, as she had done herself. Because in his past lay the root of all his hang-ups, and he would never be able to give her what she needed if he continued to carry all that baggage with him.

Still, giving that up, well that was equivalent to giving up on what drove him out of bed each day. Without it he feared he would be lost, with no real direction or purpose. But if he let it go, and trusted in her, then he supposed she would become his new purpose.

Fuck! This was the stupidest thing he had ever considered. People always let you down. Why would Orihime be any different? The only person he could truly rely on was himself. Had always been; would always be.

Yet she lay beside him, baring herself completely, and he knew she was honest. He also knew that if she ever walked away it would be because of her honesty and her stubborn principles. And he was damn sure that he would fuck things up if he gave her any leeway. Then she would leave him, and with good cause. Either way that left him alone and it was better in the end to remain alone than try and fail.

Yet in his heart, that stupid, worthless organ, he wanted to try.

Damn it to hell! He was a real idiot.

A damn fucking fool.

No woman was worth it.

No woman.

Yet Orihime…shit he did want to try.


	7. Chapter 7

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters._

**Beta: lilarin**

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**Author's Notes:** Happy April Fool's Day! So two more chapters after this one. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. Please let me know what you think of this one.

I would like to recommend a good one-shot by reviewer and fellow author **Walis** called _Bravura_. You can find it in my favorites.

New cover image by **bisous-noirs. **The link to her DA account is on my profile.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

(While listening to _Running up That Hill_ by Placebo)

The days following her sleepover at Grimmjow's apartment passed quietly. Things seemed to return to the way they had been when she had first started working for him. She went about her day, filing his papers, scheduling appointments, and performing the other many minor tasks that made up her day to day job as his secretary. The idea of a partnership had finally been put to rest. The decision that she would not sleep with him until he was willing to see her as more than a body to warm his bed, had put an end to the idea of them pursuing their mutual desire for physical contact.

He was pleasant enough in the office, but something was missing. It was if he was deciding just what to do with her. Or more so trying to figure just how she fit into his life. She decided that for now she would wait. It was obvious that he was confused, and if she pushed him too hard he would most likely push back, and the results would not be what she wanted.

Now at the beginning of a new week she entered the office, flipped on the lights, and prepped the coffee pot for his usual cup of morning java. From behind his closed office door she heard low voices and was surprised that he had actually beaten her to the office for a change.

Cream and sugar.

Well, that was a good sign.

At least he wasn't hung-over.

But then he had remained sober since the incident in the bar.

Shaking her head to dismiss that unpleasant memory, she started the pot brewing. The least she could do was bring him some hot coffee to start his morning right. She checked the phone messages while she waited, and when the coffee was finally ready she poured him a cup and another for his guest just in case, knocked on his door, and slowly entered when he responded.

"I brought two cups," she began as she took in the slight figure of the man seated across the desk from Grimmjow, "In case your guest wanted some as well."

She placed his cup on the desk in front of him and turned to the visitor. The man looked up at her and she was struck by his vivid green eyes and smooth, pale skin. Dark hair stuck out from beneath a knit hat and framed his face. A face that gave away absolutely no clue as to what he was thinking.

"Would you like some coffee?" she held out the other cup.

"Actually, I was just leaving," his deep voice was soft and even. Rising to his feet he turned back to Grimmjow. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Grimmjow rose as well. "This should be enough," he tapped a manila envelope on his desk top. "Thanks again."

The other man nodded and then made his way to the door. Orihime watched him go and then turned to Grimmjow.

"Who was he?"

Her boss sat back down and took a long drink from his mug. Lowering it to just below his lips he gazed at the now empty doorway. "I guess you can say he's an old friend."

She gazed at him skeptically, "An old friend that leaves you rather large envelopes with information, I'm guessing."

He looked down at the manila envelope on his desk. "He's got some skills that come in handy in my line of work."

She knew he did not want to share with her, but her curiosity was piqued, and besides shouldn't she know about the people he did business with so she could be of better assistance to him?

"Should I create an invoice, so you can pay him for his services?" she tried another tactic.

He turned his stare her way and said coolly, "Not everyone I do business with would like a paper trail for tax purposes, if you know what I mean."

"Oh," she said as she grasped the remaining cup in her hand tightly. "So I guess your friend went about gathering the information illegally."

"People hire me for a reason, Orihime," he held her gaze.

She returned his stare, but wanted to look away. In fact she wanted to run as far from him as she could at the moment. Yoruichi had mentioned that he did things outside of the law, but she had dismissed those claims, not wanting to face the truth. Yet here he was laying it on the table for her to see, almost daring her to look at him with unveiled eyes. He was definitely pushing, and suddenly she felt it was important that she pushed back in return.

"And this information," she stood firm, "Would it have to do with Ichigo."

His eyes narrowed and his hand went to the envelope on his desk. "There's a hell of a lot of shit here. You sure your white knight has this much crap in his past?"

He was taunting her now, and she felt her reserve falter slightly. She had witnessed his cold and sarcastic side before, in fact this was much more like the man she had met that day in the elevator, but he had warmed considerably since then. The fact that he was acting this way set off alarm bells in her head.

"Ichigo is a good person, so I guess you're right, the information couldn't be on him," she replied turning her chin up in defiance.

"Really," he grinned menacingly, his anger now sparked at her defense of her friend, and former crush. "You sure your hero isn't hiding something dark and sinister in his past?" He stood, envelope in hand and stepped within inches of her. "Is he really that infallible, that far removed from the rest of us poor schmucks and all are obvious character flaws?"

"Don't do this," she stepped back and lowered her gaze finally.

"Do what, Orihime," he closed the distance again. "Shatter your illusions about him," he lowered his voice, "Or me."

She gasped and needing to catch her breath, turned and walked back to her office. She poured the coffee from the mug in her hand out into the sink and rinsed the cup. Putting it away she turned, only to find him standing in the doorway, eyes burning with anger. Her stomach clenched and she fought the panic rising within her. He was scaring her by acting this way, but she couldn't let him see that. It was what he wanted after all.

"So," he leaned against the frame, "How about I open this up and we see just how much of a goody-goody your friend truly is?"

"I don't need to hear anything that you obtained illegally," she walked towards her desk, but his hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm.

"Afraid?" he asked sharply.

She shook her arm free. "You are purposely trying to hurt me," she met his gaze. "I don't understand why, but this has nothing to do with the job."

He stared long and hard for a silent minute, and she tried not to squirm. A smile then appeared again and he laughed softly. Reaching down he began to tear open the envelope. "How about, just for kicks we read through this?"

* * *

Grimmjow felt as if he had stepped outside of his body. The scene, no matter how horrible, was playing out before him and he knew he couldn't turn away even if he wanted to. She was right, he was trying to hurt her, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why.

Her obvious disapproval of his more seedy business practices, combined with her unwavering trust in Kurosaki pissed him off. He knew what the file contained. His friend had tipped him off to it the previous evening when he told him he would drop by in the morning with the papers for Kuchiki. He knew the kid had stuff he wished to hide too, and now he found he desired nothing more than to share that with Orihime and shatter her perfect image of the guy.

Pulling out the papers he glanced through them and then up at her. She stood firm, her eyes held his. Still he could see she was upset by his actions, but the momentum was too strong to stop now.

"I suppose you know about his mother?" he asked.

"She died when he was eight."

"Did he tell you she was murdered right in front of him?"

Her eyes opened wider.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. That's some messed up shit. No one could witness something like that and not be fucked up, you know what I mean."

"Ichigo is a nice person…"

"A nice person?" he was so tired of her defense of Kurosaki. "When exactly did you first meet him? High school?"

She nodded.

"So you have no clue about all the shit that went down while he was in middle school. Hell, the guy was somewhat of a terror even in elementary school."

"I don't believe you," her voice lowered, but she still held his gaze.

"Too hard to imagine your prince charming being nothing more than a hotheaded punk, getting into fights, and even getting suspended more times than not during middle school?"

"If he did there had to be a reason," her resolve pissed him off even more.

"A reason?" his voice rose, "How about the fact that he was fucking crazy? Is that good enough a reason for you?"

She finally looked down. When she spoke up he could hear the emotion in her voice, "He is a good person…"

"Really, Orihime," he now began to shout. "The guy watched some sicko kill his mother, was soaked in her blood when the police arrived on the scene, remained completely catatonic for days afterward, and then developed some bizarre personality disorder."

She shook her head and covered her ears, "Stop it!"

He placed the papers on her desk and grabbed her wrists painfully tight, pulling them away from her ears. "He suffers from multiple personality disorder. Do you know what that means? The guy has like this alter ego; some nasty ass character that would surface whenever he felt stressed or backed against a wall. It was like a switch, and when the bastard would come out, Kurosaki was like a maniac. He actually put one kid in the hospital…"

"No, you're just trying to make him sound bad."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you don't like Ichigo," she called out in frustration.

"He's not the perfect guy you think he is," he replied bitterly. "Even Kurosaki has demons, just like the rest of us, only his demon is a real and freaky psychological condition."

"I've never seen him act that way," she said when she met his gaze again.

"That's because his father paid a butt load of money to get him treatment with this guy Urahara. The doctor's methods are not completely sanctioned by the medical community, but he did something that helped Kurosaki control this freak inside of him."

"So he's cured."

"You don't get cured of shit like that."

"But it wasn't his fault."

"So that makes it okay?" he tried to calm himself, "He gets a free pass because of post traumatic stress or some other fucking lame excuse."

"No," her eyes suddenly blazed angrily. "There are no free passes in life, but it explains things, just like your father's death explains many things about your behavior."

He released her hands, "My old man has nothing to do with this."

"We all have baggage…"

"A split personality is not simply baggage. He's a fucking psycho, and Kuchiki is going to pay me good money for this information."

She now grabbed his arm, "No Grimmjow," she pleaded, "You can't do that."

"It's what I was hired to do," he shook her off and grabbed the file from her desk. "Kuchiki wants to keep the bloodline pure, you know, and shit like this never goes away."

"Grimmjow, please don't give him that information. In the end you will only hurt innocent people."

"Kuchiki should know what his sister-in-law is getting mixed up in."

"You gained this information illegally," she pressed, "Doctors records are private…most likely sealed…"

"That's why I pay my guy good money to hack the stuff for me," his voice became cold.

"You are a better man than this…"

"Don't try that shit with me," he grew angrier by her tactics.

"You know what's it's like to have to overcome things from your past that you had no control over," she refused to back down.

"Kurosaki and I are nothing alike," he lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

"No I suppose not," she walked around her desk and grabbed her purse, "He couldn't control his actions without professional help, while you willfully choose to hurt people with no concern about the damage you inflict."

He narrowed his eyes, his fist clenched tightly at his side, "And where exactly are you going?"

"I don't know," she said as she stepped closer to the door, "Somewhere away from you right now."

"Kurosaki," he asked.

"No," she grabbed the knob and opened the door. "But honestly, if you do this…"

"What?" he stood rooted in his spot.

"I…can't continue to do this," she gave him her back. "I can't work for you anymore. It goes against everything I believe in, destroying people for money."

"It goes hand-in-hand with the job," he shot back.

"It doesn't have to."

He laughed, "God, you are so naive."

She stiffened but didn't respond. Instead she walked away, closing the door behind her carefully.

He stared at the door and then said softly, "Well you managed to do it Grimmjow." He walked back to his office and sat down at his desk. Staring at the file he continued, "Good job getting her to hate you."

* * *

Grimmjow walked up to the grave, the familiar bottle of Jack Daniels in hand, and sat down rather unceremoniously on the ground by the headstone. Taking a long drink he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at the marble marker.

"Well I really fucked things up," he said as he reached out and ran his hand across the smooth stone. "I don't know why I did it, but I couldn't stop myself."

Silence greeted him as a cool breeze blew his bangs into his eyes. Pushing the hair out of the way he stared out at the cemetery. He knew this place like the back of his hand; had visited frequently after his father had died. Sometimes he skipped school, caught a bus, and spent his day sitting in this exact spot, talking to his old man.

Then they had moved, and getting back to the cemetery wasn't so easy anymore. One time he disappeared, and when he hadn't returned at sundown, his mother had actually become anxious. It was her new husband that had found him. The guy was pretty intuitive, and even though Grimmjow refused to let him in, the guy knew most of his secrets – at least when it came to running away.

In fact the guy came for him that last time he left. It took him a few weeks, but he finally found Grimmjow living with some other teens in some rundown apartment. He had asked him to return home, to consider his future, but Grimmjow had only one future he wanted to pursue and that had been proving his father's innocence.

It had taken a lot work, but he managed to get his GED and with a little more perseverance was accepted into the police academy. He figured the best place to start was at the source, and his desire to get the truth about his father, caused him more trouble than he had bargained for.

Which left him here, back in the city where he had grown up, sitting next to his father's tombstone, lamenting his inability to pull his head out of his ass when it really mattered.

"Shit," he took another long drink. "I gotta make money. I mean what does she expect me to do? I'm not noble like that damn Kurosaki."

Yet she would defend him just as she had her friend. He knew it deep in his gut. So he had pushed her; made sure she understood just what type of a guy he was, so that she had no misconceptions anymore.

"What would you do?" he asked the long dead man. "Kuchiki hired me to find the dirt on the kid, and I did. And this job pays damn good money. And if I just threw away this information I would be out a lot of cash, and I'm kind of strapped right now. So fuck principles, ya know. Let Kurosaki deal with the fall out. After all he's the one with the problem."

Yet he knew that was a lame excuse. Orihime was right; the kid couldn't help how his brain had chosen to cope with the trauma of seeing his mom killed. After all here he was, twenty-one years after his father was killed, and he still clung to his memories, and his need for answers.

"You couldn't be crooked though," his voice was choked with emotion and he lifted the bottle once more. "You were a good man, a man of principles as well…"

But what if he hadn't been? Grimmjow had only been seven when his father died. He remembered him through the eyes of a child. His father had been his whole world. He trusted the man completely, and if his life had been a lie…

"Fucking shit!" he yelled. "I'm so sick of all this crap. Why can't I just put you to rest? Why can't I just walk away like mom did? Why is this so hard for me? After all, you left me." He stood and began to pace in front of the grave, "You went and got killed. I depended on you to be there forever and you up and died on me. You left me with her, and she couldn't even look me in the eyes after you were gone. You know what that fucking does to a kid?"

He lifted the bottle and remembered the other night when Orihime had come for him in the bar. Remembered the way she had shied away from him, afraid he would hurt her.

Damn it to hell! He wasn't that kind of a man. But then he wasn't some good guy like she wanted him to be. He was a fucking mess. That's what he was. He wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. And he hated that she put so much faith in him, just like she put so much faith in Kurosaki. And Kurosaki was a total schizo. So where did that put him. It just reaffirmed that she was a lousy judge of character.

"Fuck this," he grabbed the bottle by the neck, "And fuck you!"

He threw the bottle at the gravestone. It shattered, leaking the amber liquid all over the white marble. Falling to his knees he placed his head in his hands and began to sob. He didn't know what to feel anymore. This discontent had been brewing for a long time. And when Sui-Feng stole those files from him, it only escalated. He was losing himself in this damn need to prove his dad innocent, and he had become blind to that fact until Orihime made it painfully clear.

He enjoyed being with her. Even if she was a little ditsy at times, and clung to her antiquated ideals. After all how many twenty-two year old virgins really existed anymore? But those things only served to turn him on, because he knew that he was everything she was not, and regardless she still found something in him redeeming enough to try and build a relationship with him.

Of course he had destroyed that today. She was the only real and genuine thing that had entered his life in the past two decades and he made damn sure she didn't remain.

"I don't know what to do," he said softly. "I either lose her, or lose this job."

And Kuchiki would not dismiss this easily. His name would be mud if he fucked this up. The arrogant snob would destroy him, and then what would he do for a living. She didn't think about that when she was spouting principles and crap. But he could always make money, somehow, but if he lost her, well she was not so easily replaced.

He glanced back at his father's headstone. "It's time to move on isn't it?"

Silence again.

"I suppose we all make bad decisions. Hell, I've been making them ever since you died. I mean so what if you were crooked. It doesn't change what we had, does it?"

The darkening night answered him with the cool breeze again.

"You would have approved of Orihime. She's one damn good looking chick," he smiled as he imagined her in one of her silly old-lady outfits. "And she stands by her convictions. She's pretty strong, even if she first comes across as weak."

He grew quiet and sat still thinking about how he had really screwed things up. He knew he had a choice. He could hand over the information and continue on with his life like he had for the past twenty-one years, or he could shred it and tell Kuchiki to fuck off. Still there was no guarantee that Orihime would come back, and deep down inside he believed he wasn't the best man for her.

Better to let her go.

But what should he do about Kurosaki?

Once more he sat in silence. The sky grew black when he finally pulled out his phone and placed the call.

"I finished the investigation," he said when the other line picked up. "When and where would you like to meet and discuss what I have?"


	8. Chapter 8

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.  
_

**Beta: lilarin**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

(While listening to _What About Now_ by Chris Daughtry)

Grimmjow arrived at the office an hour before his appointment with Kuchiki. He started a pot of very strong coffee, checked through his messages, and then took a steaming mug into his office. Sitting behind his desk he leaned his elbows on the surface and held the mug with two hands at his lips. Every so often he would sip the bitter black liquid. His mind though was miles away.

Waiting.

Wondering.

Had she been serious yesterday? Or would she show up at her usual time, with that perky gait in her step and the warm smile on her face. Shit, who was he kidding? She wasn't coming back. He had made damn sure she wouldn't. Right now she was probably sitting at her breakfast table scouring the classifieds looking for a job. And where normally he would feel betrayed, even angry, he instead felt defeat. He couldn't fault her one bit for walking away. Still, deep inside, he wished to see her again. He foolishly clung to the hope that she would return.

He took another sip from his mug before he placed it on the desktop. Reaching down into his briefcase he pulled out Kurosaki's file and plopped in on the desk. If he hadn't hated the kid before, he sure as hell did now. Even while swimming in shit, that kid managed to sparkle like gold in Orihime's eyes. And the question came to mind for the millionth time that morning was he doing this because of that undying devotion of hers? Was his jealousy driving him rather than his business sense?

"Fuck this shit!" he yelled out as he stood abruptly and reached for the mug on his desk.

He headed back out and poured some more coffee and went back to his desk. He itched to add something a little stronger to the mug, but he needed to keep a clear head during this meeting. Many things were hanging in the balance, and he didn't need to fuck this up.

Kuchiki of course arrived precisely at 9:00. Grimmjow was surprised to find the man's bodyguard, Renji Abarai was with him, but then maybe Kuchiki didn't trust that he was a man of integrity either. Maybe the tall red-head was there to make sure Grimmjow delivered the goods with no unexpected problems.

Kuchiki sat across from him at the desk, while his bodyguard stood a few feet back, ready to spring into action if anything went awry. Sitting tall, his eyes taking in the fading bruises on Grimmjow's face. When he spoke his voice held disdain, "I had heard that Yoruichi Shihoin had paid you a visit last week."

Grimmjow didn't miss the small smile light Abarai's face. Stupid punk, he thought, but replied in his usual flippant manner, "That bitch sure packs one hell of a punch."

"Does she prefer to use you for her personal punching bag," Kuchiki remained aloof, "Or did you give her just cause to come after you?"

Grimmjow stared at him, a fake smile plastered on his face as well. Kuchiki was such a blowhard, but he had to play nice, seal the deal, and get paid. His personal feelings would have to take the back burner for the moment.

""She's kind of touchy, you know," he leaned in and rested his elbows on his desk. "It doesn't take much to set her off."

"I see," Kuchiki eyed him with suspicion. "I heard that you were poking around where you weren't welcome."

Grimmjow tried to remain cool, while inside his heart began to race. Had that bitch told Kuchiki that he had been looking into Rukia's past? No, even she wouldn't do something that low - unless of course she was trying to rattle Kuchiki's cage.

"Well my habit of poking around where I'm not welcome is why you hired me, wasn't it?" he spoke evenly, a slight smile still on his lips.

Kuchiki remained passive, but behind him Abarai tensed.

"I believe I hired you to poke around in Ichigo Kurosaki's past, not any members of my household," Kuchiki replied coolly.

Grimmjow's smile faded as he swore under his breath, "Fucking bitch."

"What was that?" Kuchiki played dumb. His eyes though held Grimmjow's in a fierce battle of wills.

He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "I said Yoruichi Shihoin is a fucking bitch."

Kuchiki's eyes widened a fraction and then he regained his composure.

"You do not want to me for an enemy," the dark-haired man stated.

"Hey, I was just curious," Grimmjow smiled again, "No harm done."

"Why would you think I would tolerate you doing something so arrogant?" Kuchiki continued. "You were hired to do one thing only. My family is off limits. I would think that even someone who operates with no true moral compass would at least adhere to common sense."

Grimmjow lowered his hands. The smile left his face and he held the other man's stare with an angry one of his own. How typical of the rich, he thought, to believe it was acceptable to hold those beneath them to a different standard. It was perfectly acceptable to destroy Kurosaki, yet the guy's sister-in-law, who had just as much, if not more to hide, was untouchable.

"Honestly your precious little Rukia piqued my interest," he replied with satisfaction as both men's calm composure slipped. "She's not quite the innocent cherub you made her out to be."

"You were not to have contact with her," Kuchiki lowered his voice, "The whole point of selecting you for the job was for Rukia to never find out."

"Yeah, I kind of fell into that one," he smiled again. "Seems I knew someone that knew Kurosaki, and it was easier to spy on him than I could have imagined. Rukia though, sharp cookie that she is, was definitely suspicious. She even tried to take my head off with a cue stick. In fact," he winked, "That was what tipped me off that maybe she had just as much to hide as her honey."

Abarai took a step forward and Kuchiki held up his hand causing the man to stop dead in his tracks. The red-head's eyes blazing with anger still held Grimmjow's gaze.

"You are either incredibly bold, or incredibly stupid," Abarai spat out.

"Depends on the day of the week I suppose," Grimmjow taunted. Then turning his attention to Kuchiki he said, "You may have thought you covered up her past, but hiring her childhood friend and fellow delinquent as your bodyguard was not too bright in my opinion."

Kuchiki dropped his hand and Abarai sprang forward. Grimmjow stood just in time to deflect the guy's punch. Reaching down he grabbed the file from the desktop. Holding it at either end he turned to Kuchiki, "Call off your goon before I tear this to shreds."

Kuchiki's voice was soft, yet firm, "Stand down Renji." Abarai shot Grimmjow a glare and then went back to his earlier place behind his boss. Kuchiki's voice lowered even more, "You are making a big mistake Jaegerjaquez."

Grimmjow's heart was slamming in his chest. This was definitely not going the way he had imagined. He simply wanted to give the guy the information and collect his money, but once more things had gotten fucked up. Yet hadn't Orihime warned him that just such a thing would happen if he investigated Rukia. She had been correct about that, and now he began to believe she may have also been right about Ichigo.

Why should he give the information to Kuchiki? What made one person's past any less precious than another's? Hadn't he bore the burden of his father's sins for most of his life? Yet he wasn't to blame for what someone else did, and neither was Kurosaki or Kuchiki's sister-in-law.

He turned his gaze to the file in his hand. "I am a fucking idiot," he whispered. Reaching down he took the empty trash bin from beside his desk and placed it on the surface. Reaching around in his pocket he found the lighter and grasped it tightly.

"You know I was hell-bent on giving this to you," he shook his head, "Lost a pretty decent girl in the process. But now I'm having doubts."

"You're having doubts?" Kuchiki was stunned.

"Yeah doubts," Grimmjow gripped the lighter tighter, "I mean why should Rukia's past be so easily dismissed? Maybe Kurosaki would change _his_ mind if he knew the truth…"

Kuchiki stood and leaned closer to Grimmjow, his hands planted firmly on the desktop. "Rukia could not help the circumstances of her youth…"

"Shit happens," Grimmjow replied as he removed the lighter from his pocket and ignited it. Holding it to the corner of the file he continued, "But you know what? Sometimes shit deserves to remain hidden. This kid Kurosaki, I don't really like him, but then I have my own reasons."

The flame began to slowly spread up the edge of the file and Grimmjow maneuvered the envelope so that it burned completely without scorching his own fingers.

"Actually the guy is quite decent. Works at the college to help meet expenses, helped his father, when his mother passed away, to care for his sisters, and his friends swear that he is fiercely protective of those he holds dear. Not bad, especially if you're into white knights and shit like that." He found it hard to keep the bitterness from his tone at the last words.

"But he obviously has something to hide," Kuchiki said as his eyes held the burning file.

When the flames became too much Grimmjow to contain he dropped the burning papers into the trash bin.

"Don't we all have things we wish to remain hidden?" Grimmjow replied. "If you want the truth about Kurosaki, man up and ask him yourself."

Kuchiki stood erect and looked down at Grimmjow.

"I hired you to gather the information, but it obvious that Yoruichi was correct. You are a loose canon, and your total disregard for the law or any semblance of rules of propriety, makes you more than a risk," Kuchiki said as he waved Abarai closer. "I was willing to give you a chance, but I see I was wrong to put any faith in you."

He nodded to the door and began to leave. Abarai followed closely behind. At the threshold Kuchiki turned back, "You will regret this."

Grimmjow simply nodded and Kuchiki headed out of the office. Abarai stopped at the door and held Grimmjow's stare. Suddenly a miniscule smile graced his lips. Then he too was gone.

Grimmjow sank down into his chair and let out a tired sigh. This went beyond fucked. He may as well close up shop and leave town. Kuchiki would destroy him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Yet despite this knowledge he found a prickling of satisfaction at what he had done. Pissing of someone like Kuchiki was enjoyable enough, but the truth was he felt good about himself for the first time in a long time. He knew he had done the right thing, even if it wasn't what he had set out to do.

Twenty-one years ago his father had taken the payoff, or so everyone said, but Grimmjow was not his father. And as much as he loved the man, he refused to follow him down that road. Orihime was right. He had to face his past and reconcile his father's memory. Of course taking the high road, following her strict code of honor, was going to cost him big time.

* * *

The rest of the week passed with relative calm. Grimmjow began to wonder just when the shit was going to hit the fan, but Kuchiki had remained silent. In fact business had remained as constant as it had been since he had set up shop years earlier. Still he remained on guard, just in case the irate blue-blood decided to finally act.

Yet to his surprise it wasn't Byakuya Kuchiki that took action. Grimmjow rounded the corner one morning after coming off the elevator to find Renji Abarai standing outside his office.

"So did Kuchiki finally decide to release the hounds," he remarked sarcastically as he came to a stop several feet from the man.

Abarai was similar in height and build to himself, and even if the guy was street savvy when it came to fighting, Grimmjow was an experienced boxer. If something started he felt confident that he could hold his own. But a fight seemed the last thing Abarai was there for. The red-head moved to the side revealing a petite woman with raven-black hair and big blue eyes; eyes so blue they were almost violet.

"Rukia?" he asked and then on closer inspection he noticed that this woman, though similar in appearance to the little psycho, was older, and the smile she gave him was warm and genuine. No, this was not the shrimp that tried to take his head off the other night.

"My name is Hisana Kuchiki," the woman spoke, her voice soft and delicate.

"Byakuya Kuchiki's wife," he said as he took in her fragile appearance. "I thought you were sick."

She laughed lightly and replied, "I was ill, but my doctor has given me the okay to go out for short trips about town."

"And you decide to come to this rattrap of a building?" he said as he took a step closer.

"I had some business to attend to," her voice was still soft, and her words, which on another would have hinted towards something else, were sincere and honest.

"I suppose it would be ungentlemanly of me to force you to stand out here in the hall," he moved for the door and pulled out his keys. Opening the door he entered and turned on the light. He then made room for her to enter. "I'm surprised your husband allowed you within ten feet of me."

She followed him in and laughed lightly again, "Byakuya does not have a high opinion of you; that is true."

He led her into his office and pulled back a chair. She sat down; Abarai once more at his post several feet behind her.

"So then I'm confused as to why you are here, and with his hired goon to boot," he nodded to Abarai.

The man tensed, but remained at his post. Kuchiki's wife looked at Grimmjow and said, "Renji is a dear friend, and he is not a goon."

He smiled a legitimate smile. This tiny woman reminded him of Orihime with her gentle disposition, but like his former secretary he bet she also had some fight in her as well.

"A friend huh," he said.

"Yes," she nodded and relaxed in her chair. "Renji is more like a brother to me than an employee." The man in question turned almost as red as his hair. "After all he looked out for my sister when I was unable to. But I am sure you already knew that."

He smiled wider, "You don't seem half as angry as your husband was at that discovery."

"I believe you had your reasons," she leaned forward. "But I also know that Yoruichi Shihoin destroyed any information you had gathered."

He was so tired of having that rubbed in his face. Leaning down he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out an envelope similar to the one that contained Kurosaki's past. Tossing it on his desk he looked back at her, "She was mistaken."

Her eyes widened as she took in the packet. "You didn't tell my husband about this."

"He didn't ask."

And then to his horror the woman's eyes began to tear up and he knew she was trying hard to keep from showing the depth of her emotions.

"My sister's past," she began softly, "should be left in the past."

"So should Kurosaki's," he replied.

"I agree," she met his stare as she regained her composure. "That in fact is the real reason I am here."

He leaned forward, elbows on the desktop, "You've lost me."

"Lost you?"

"Yes," he continued, "I thought your hubby didn't want you to even know about this job."

She smiled again, "Mr. Jaegerjaquez, you are not a married man are you?"

"Hell no," he answered quickly.

"Marriage involves communication and honesty. My husband wished to protect Rukia, and though his methods for doing that were not the ones I would have chosen, I understand his motivation, and I also understand why he believed it was best to not worry me about it." She relaxed in her chair once more. "After ten years of marriage I have become very good at reading my husband, and I am well aware when he is keeping secrets. It didn't take long to figure out something was bothering him when he returned from his visit with you earlier this week. And after some discussion he confided in me what he had done."

"What a great guy," Grimmjow replied sarcastically.

Her gaze grew stern and she stared hard at him. "My sister and I grew up on the streets Mr. Jaegerjaquez," her voice was cold now. "We both struggled to survive, and when the state stepped in I honestly believed things would get better, but I was sadly mistaken. Rukia slipped through the cracks, while I graduated out of the system. I lost her, and it took many years, and Byakuya's help, to eventually find her again. But by then she had suffered much. Renji did his best to protect her," she turned slightly to smile at the tall red head, "But he was just a child himself. So when we took her from that life and tried to give her the best chance at overcoming her past, it was only natural that we covered it up."

"The funny thing about the past is that it never goes away," Grimmjow said with seriousness.

"No it doesn't," she replied. "But we didn't want it to define her, if you understand what I mean."

He nodded, "Which is why in the end I burned Kurosaki's file."

Her eyes softened once again, "I understand."

"You do?" he asked, "Because your husband did not."

"Byakuya wants to save Rukia anymore pain," she said. "It is his way of protecting her."

"She's a big girl," Grimmjow replied, "And believe me she can protect herself. The crazy shrimp almost took my head off with a cue stick the other night."

Hisana laughed, but covering her mouth said, "I'm sorry. Rukia shouldn't have done that, but I am still amazed at her boldness."

"She's crazy," he remained cool. "But she was defending Kurosaki. So maybe your husband should loosen up and trust her abilities to look out for herself."

"I agree," she smiled. Then reaching into her purse she pulled out an envelope. Placing it on the desk top she continued, "Byakuya was wrong to spy on my sister or her boyfriend. And though I understand why he did it, I do not condone it."

"So what is this?" he asked looking at the envelope.

"Your payment," she replied.

"My payment," his brows drew together.

"My husband hired you for a job, and you performed that job," she began.

"I burned the information."

"Yes," she said. "And that took guts…"

"It was the stupidest thing I have ever done," he stated.

"I don't believe you mean that," she said. "In fact I admire you for it. And I am grateful. Rukia is a woman now, and she needs to fight her own battles. If Ichigo is the right man for her, then I am sure he will reveal his past when he is ready too do so."

"You're placing a lot of trust in the kid."

"No I am placing trust in my sister," she replied. "And to a degree I am placing trust in you Mr. Jaegerjaquez. If the guy were a criminal or murderer I am sure you wouldn't remain silent. Nevertheless he deserves a chance to tell Rukia himself."

Grimmjow picked up the packet of Rukia's information and handed it to Hisana.

"I have no need for this either," he said. "Sometimes the past is best left there."

She nodded as she took the file. "Thank you."

He pushed the envelope with the money back towards her as well. "I can't accept this."

"You have no choice," she rose to her feet. "Consider it a retainer of sorts."

"A retainer?" he asked.

"I like a man of principles, Mr. Jaegerjaquez," she handed the file on Rukia to Abarai and fixed her bag over her shoulder. "I believe that my husband could use a man of your abilities in the future, so it is best to dispel any hard feelings."

He looked at Abarai. The man though gave nothing away. This was crazy. Kuchiki should be ripping him to shreds.

"So this is all water under the bridge?" she asked as she smiled sweetly at him.

"I guess," he replied honestly as he too got to his feet. "I suppose I'll have to trust you on this."

"I suppose so," she nodded to Abarai, who began to walk towards the door. She followed after him but paused at the threshold. "Thank you again."

He nodded and then walked her out of the office. Closing the door after she had gone, he leaned back and let out a hard laugh.

"Holy shit," he said as he brushed through his hair. "That was fucking unexpected."

He had gone with his principles and it had actually worked out for the better. Looking at Orihime's desk he sobered. Well, it had almost worked out. He had gained a rich and powerful client, but in the end he had still lost the first woman that he had truly wanted to keep in his life.

But if Kuchiki could forgive him, maybe she could as well.

Nah, he had pissed her off way too much, and in the end he would probably do something just as stupid again.

Still…he didn't want to let her go. His life had been miserable since she had walked out.

He went back to his room and sat behind his desk. After almost an hour of unproductive work, and lots of thought, he picked up the phone and called the classifieds - might as well place an ad for a new secretary.

The man on the other line questioned him several times during the call, wondering if maybe Grimmjow wanted the personals. But he stuck to his guns. He knew just what he was looking for, and he was not backing down.


	9. Chapter 9

_I do not own Bleach or any of its characters._

**Beta: lilarin**

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**Author's Notes: **Wow, another story comes to an end!I wanted to thank all those readers who left reviews over the course of this story. I have loved reading each and every review.

One thing I did want to clarify - when I began this story I knew that Grimmjow's character would be rather crude and vulgar at times (which is why I love him so), and the things he would say would be rather adult in nature. That is why I chose the rating I did. I never intended lemons (though I could imagine some rather juicy ones). Besides, they never fit into the storyline as it is. So I apologize to those that believed this story was headed in that direction. The ratings for this site are rather strict, and honestly I wanted to tell a story for the story's sake if that makes sense.

So once more a big thank you to all who took the time to read. I have two ideas in the works for new stories. Hopefully I will be able to develop them enough to submit them down the road.

Please leave me your thoughts on this final chapter!

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**Chapter Nine**

(While listening to _The Heart of the Matter_ by Don Henley)

She ran for the elevator doors just as they were closing. Her voice came in a breathless rush, "Please hold the elevator."

A hand shot out and grabbed the doors. They opened slowly just as she caught up and she stepped inside.

"Thank you," she smiled as she looked up at the only other occupant.

He leaned casually beside the control panel, head bent down, blue baseball cap obscuring his face. His ash- blonde hair teased around the edges of the well worn hat, and she suppressed a startled gasp.

"Oh my," she whispered and then began to fidget with her skirt.

She had thought she would at least have the elevator ride to brace herself for their meeting, but it seemed that fate was not on her side. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper with her horoscope on it. She read it once more, her lips moving silently.

_Second chances come in familiar settings._

Putting the scrap back she once again straightened her skirt and top, and shifted her purse on her shoulder. He remained as he was, quietly staring at her. She looked straight ahead, but from the corner of her eyes she saw a slight motion of his hand and then the elevator came to a screeching halt.

Her hand flew to her chest and she turned towards him, her eyes accusing, "You did that."

"The elevator breaks all the time," he said nonchalantly.

"I saw your hand move," she stepped closer to where he stood. "You pressed the emergency stop button."

"Why would I do that?" he asked as he looked up. Blue eyes held her in a challenge.

"I have no idea," she wanted to look away, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

"So I guess we are stuck," he grinned.

"I can't stay here," she said.

"Got somewhere you need to be?" he crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the elevator wall.

He knew exactly where she needed to be, the classified had been tailor-made for her. Still, being alone like this, in such close quarters was unnerving.

"I have a potential job offer," she replied.

"Dressed like that?" he asked as he took in her floral print dress. The one piece outfit hung slightly off her shoulders and cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt, only to fall just above her knees. His eyes went lower as he observed her brown leather boots that reached mid calf.

She reached in her bag and took out another scrap of paper, this one from the newspaper.

"Secretary needed," she read slowly, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Cannot dress like an old woman."

She looked up and he grinned. "Well I can't imagine my granny dressed like that."

She cleared her throat, "Auburn hair preferable, worn loose around the shoulders."

He stepped forward just a fraction and peered at her closely, "Yeah, I guess that passes for auburn."

She stared a moment more and then continued, "Must love cute fluffy bunnies, prefer the company of knights in shining armor, and enjoy dispensing advice even when unwanted."

"Not too sure about that last one," he stated.

"I agree," she looked up, "Which makes me question why I would want to work for someone as odd as this man."

"Tough economy," he shrugged, "people will do anything for employment."

"Maybe," she answered as she looked back at the paper. "Must stand on principles, and be willing to forgive her employer when he is being an ass."

"I like that last clause," he reached for the paper in her hands and looked it over. "I should remember something like that next time I place an ad. Maybe I would be able to hold onto my secretaries better."

She folded her arms and looked at him skeptically, "Forgiveness means nothing if the person in need of forgiveness is unwilling to change."

He handed her back the paper. "I'd have to agree."

"Really," she replied coolly.

His expression grew serious and she noticed his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

"Orihime, I was an idiot," he said softly.

She was unsure of what to say so she remained silent, her eyes still holding his.

"When you came in that day I was so confused. It was easier to push you away than deal with my feelings. So I took the easiest route. But honestly I wasn't even thinking. I mean once I started baiting you I couldn't stop. And I didn't want you to go, but I was scared as shit to ask you to stay."

Her heart skipped a beat. "You could have just told me that."

"No I couldn't," he said as he tucked the baseball cap more securely in place and then placed his hands back to his side once more. "I'm not some noble guy. Knights in armor - that's Kurosaki. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Ichigo isn't perfect," she replied.

"I know that," his voice rose slightly and she could see he was getting frustrated. "I just…I mess up everything I touch. I told you that before. I have no idea how to treat a woman like a woman. And you need a guy that respects you and your principles."

"So why the ad?" she asked.

"Because," he stepped closer, placed his hands on her shoulders, and stared into her eyes, "I want to be that guy."

Her eyes opened wider as her heart began to race even faster in her chest. He lifted a strand of her hair with one hand and began to rub it between his fingers. His voice softened and he said, "I've never wanted to change my ways for anyone else in my life – ever. But when you were gone, and I thought that you would never come back, I realized that being a selfish bastard only left me lonely and miserable."

She looked down as she tried to gain control over her own emotions. Here he was saying everything she had wanted to hear, but feared he would never humble himself to say. Now that he had opened himself to her, she was unsure of how to respond. So like the idiot she could be at times, especially when she was nervous, she lifted her gaze and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "You really missed me?"

He stared at her a moment before the cocky grin lit his face once again. Dropping her hair he replied, "Hell you can't cook, but you sure can make a great pot of coffee. And no one else has ever gotten down the black coffee verses cream-and-sugar days as quickly as you…"

She swatted his arm affectionately, but she could feel her cheeks growing warm as she teased, "You can be such a jerk!"

He laughed loudly and then grabbed her close in a tight embrace. Holding her still in his grasp he whispered, "I don't ever want to be without you again."

She reached back and returned his hug. They stood quietly holding each other for several minutes before he said, "By the way - I told Kuchiki to fuck himself."

She pulled back and stared at him, "You didn't."

"Burned the file in front of him," he smiled slightly. "It was very dramatic."

She giggled at the image and his smile grew.

"I was gonna do it Orihime," he squeezed her shoulder and his smile faded again. "I was all set to give him the file, but in the end I couldn't. You were right. Ichigo couldn't help his past or how he reacted to his mother's death, anymore than Rukia could help that she grew up on the streets and was in trouble with the law…"

"Honestly?" she asked.

"The past is the past," he said. "And I realized something else."

"What was that?"

"About my old man," he started. "You were right. I had to reconcile my image of him to who he really was, and I had to let go."

She pulled him back into her arms and hugged him with all her strength. Finally letting her emotions win out she cried softly, "I didn't want to go. I really wanted to stay. But if I compromised myself and what I believed in, I wouldn't have been able to face myself in the mirror each morning."

His hands moved to her back and squeezed her tighter. "I'm so sorry."

"But in the end you did the right thing," she held on with as much enthusiasm.

"Your damn principles wore off on me I suppose," he whispered against her ear and she smiled.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that," he teased.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, "Kuchiki was mad."

"Beyond pissed," he grinned.

"Well we'll get through this together," she said.

"You really want to come back?"

She nodded. "I wouldn't have answered the ad, or come dressed like this…"

"This is a big improvement," he said as his hands fell from her shoulders, slowly coming to a rest at the small of her back. "Promise to dress like this all the time?"

"It's not very professional."

"If I want an old lady as my secretary, I'll call my grandma," he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear.

"Maybe we can come to a compromise," she tried.

"Haven't I given enough," he teased.

"You have yet to feel the torrent of my unwanted advice Mr. Jaegerjaquez," she teased back.

"Can I retract the ad?"

"Too late," she giggled.

His mouth made contact with the skin just below her ear.

"I guess I can live with your lectures," he moved along her jaw line until his lips found hers.

His touch was slow and deliberate and she moaned softly. The hands on her waist held her firmly in place as he continued his gentle assault on her mouth. Wanting more, she turned the tables and sought entrance to his mouth. He eagerly let her in and before she knew it he had her backed against the wall of the elevator, his hand moving past the hem of her skirt and slowly up her leg to take a firm grasp of her bottom.

Instinctually she pressed her own body against his and he lifted her leg just enough to show her how much he desired her. Somewhere in her mind she heard the warning bells. This was not the place to do this, she thought, but another part of her, the more vocal part of her conscience at the moment, encouraged her to take all she could get.

And she was just about to when the alarm bells went off again. Strange, she thought, they sounded so real.

"Shit," Grimmjow hissed against her swollen lips, "Looks like we've been discovered." She straightened and realized the alarm was actually coming from the elevator. "Guess I should release the emergency stop before the fire department gets called."

She nodded as she went about fixing her clothes and hair. Her heart was racing, and she felt as if she would die from embarrassment. Yet when the elevator started moving again Grimmjow stood beside her, his hands grasping hers firmly. He squeezed gently to get her attention, and looking down, said softly, "This may seem a weird time to bring this up, and though I've never thought about taking it slow with anyone before, if it's what you need …"

She squeezed his hand back, "I need to know that you will be open and honest with me, and that you desire more than just one night…"

"I want a hell of a lot more than one night," he stared unblinkingly into her eyes, causing her to gasp, "I want to make this work. But you know me. I'm not really good at romance and all that touchy feely crap. Well actually touching and feeling I don't mind…"

Once more her face heated up. "Touching is nice," she whispered.

He laughed loudly as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. A few people stood outside. Spying him, one of the men muttered something and then pushed past them to get into the elevator.

Grimmjow led her to the office, opened the door, and let her in. Closing it he took her into his arms again.

"Orihime…all those other women…I never loved them…you understand that don't you?"

She went completely still.

_Love?_

"I mean I cared but…not like you…not like this…" he stopped as he buried his face in her hair. "Shit I sound like some nervous teenager."

It was now her turn to smile.

"I love you too," she replied, saving him from further embarrassment.

He found her mouth once more. He was a physical man after all. She knew words would take time, and she was willing to wait. After all he had said they would take it slow, and slow meant a long time. And she knew one thing for sure; a long time was what she wanted from him.


End file.
